


Soar Onward

by ParadiseParrot



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Abusive Parents, Bad Parenting, Childhood Trauma, Gen, I bet you are, Other, SPARKLETS, Transformer Sparklings, are you all very surprised I stuck Updraft into something else, baby robot hell is here again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-02-08 16:05:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 53,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12868125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParadiseParrot/pseuds/ParadiseParrot
Summary: The Decepticon base, crowded and underwater, is no place for a sparklet. Predictably, one's ended up there anyway. When the Air Commander's child comes to join them, too, things are guaranteed to get messier.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Thundercracker's Glory](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/342426) by Kenya Starflight. 



> So I wrote this almost NaNO-length, multichapter story out over one month, because of a whim reread of a favourite fic from way back when! Kenya Starflight and I used to chat on a forum, and Thundercracker's Glory possibly kick started this baby robot hell I now know and love (though I've obviously branched off into stuff a bit less genfic). I don't necessarily think you have to read it for this, I have tried to establish the world (and how I've shifted things to my own ends), but it's a classic if you want to check it out too!
> 
> Of course some of you will know Updraft well, and I am borrowing Glory from the aforementioned author. I certainly didn't expect or plan to write this, but I liked hammering it out and I hope you guys enjoy it! I've already gotten back to my other projects, and I'll probably post updates to Soar Onward twice weekly. (Mondays and Thursdays from now on, maybe?)
> 
> EDIT: I should also mention that the Windblade mentioned in this story is not THE Windblade, whom I love, but another OC who predates that one.

“Thundercracker!”

Starscream had used his command passcodes to enter his trine member's quarters—it had happened before, but not in ages, and if there was one thing about Starscream Thundercracker was grateful for it was that their Air Commander generally didn’t care enough to invade their privacy.

For his part, Thundercracker had been mid-raid, and the chat exploded with protests as he tapped a 'brb' and stood up.

“Starscream,” he said. Practiced, he stepped around one of Glory’s books, acutely aware of the mess in their shared quarters. “Is there an emergency?”

The illustrious Air Commander Starscream was, currently, standing on a _Jets of Cybertron_ colouring book and several unfortunate crayons. He gave the mess a glance, and sniffed. “Of course. I wouldn’t waste my time down here if not. Where’s the brat?”

Thundercracker ignored the annoyed rush down his spinal strut. “Playing with the Stunticons. What is it, sir?”

To Thundercracker’s surprise, Starscream’s wings twitched. His optics flared brighter, and he realized that what he was seeing was _fear,_ the likes of which only Megatron inspired.

“I have just received news,” Starscream said after a moment. He had lowered his voice, glancing furtively at the closed door. Since when was _Starscream_ worried about who it was that heard him?

“Yes…?” Thundercracker started. He hoped someone they’d been in debt too wasn’t alive after all. Worse yet, if _Megatron_ found out some of the things he had dragged Starscream (and, he was loathe to admit, Skywarp) out of, then the list of punishments that would follow would frankly be alarming, and upset Glory.

Starscream sighed, and it held a minute quaver. “My daughter is alive. Shockwave has her recovering now.”

Thundercracker pictured how humans filmed their shows, the way they’d stop the camera on someone's face at the mention of world-shattering news. He hoped Primus, or whoever it was, was getting the best shot they could of him right then.

* * *

 

“Your daughter,” he had repeated, on the walk to Megatron’s office. “ _Your_ daughter. You produced offspring.”

“Yes, yes,” Starscream had snapped, agitation cooling his usual bite. His wings were too twitchy, like the newbuilt, and Thundercracker swore he caught a tremor in his hand. It was unsettling, seeing him so genuinely upset. Alive with rage, sure. Disgusted, daily. Smug and self-assured, well, you could be certain of it. This was all new, and no more enjoyable than the usual.

Thundercracker actually felt sorry for him. He’d looked a little like that after Skyfire's defection, but he had snapped it into check much more quickly. (This furthered his certainty that Starscream had been forged, not born. Maybe a parent could have helped him be less of an emotional disaster.)

“What—what _happened_ to her?” Thundercracker had asked instead. “Surely she's upgraded. A soldier.”

Starscream shook his head. “She was found in deep stasis. She’s more than four million years old, yes, but she was—paused. I’ll say more in the briefing.”

“The carrier?” Thundercracker asked quietly. Windblade had been Glory’s, but only after a lengthy wait period, application, and provision of a key for legitimate code. He had known Starscream a _long_ time, and the list of sire candidates was short.

“Me,” Starscream said, somehow more of a shock than the idea he had offspring. “Now, for spark's sake, shut _up,_ or everyone will know. Megatron didn’t know about this.”

“Speaking of,” Thundercracker said. “Why do I need to be here? I can’t _cover_ for you when I didn’t know about this.”

They had reached the doors, and Starscream whirled on him, wild-eyed. “Because if you don’t, I’m going to kill you. Now, straighten up.”

Starscream had always been a puzzle, but one, he and Skywarp thought, easily solvable. He had never been an _enigma,_ with secrets so deep he had clearly pressed them into nothing.

Or, almost nothing. If Starscream didn’t care, he wouldn’t look like he was walking to an execution.

Megatron seemed unsurprised when Thundercracker followed Starscream in. It was because of Glory, surely, and Thundercracker’s experience with a similar situation.

Of course, he hadn’t known about Glory at _all_ until Windblade’s death, and clearly Starscream had been dishonest about his past life. Still, at least Megatron didn’t look angry. Stern and his face darkened, standing imposing behind his desk as only he could, and Soundwave at his side. Their communications head had a glittering visor, and if Thundercracker hadn’t known any better, he’d say there was great interest underneath it.

“Sit,” said Megatron, gesturing. “Before you keel over. I would like this settled.”

Starscream dropped into his chair, but Thundercracker stayed standing. It was only when Megatron nodded more firmly at the seats that he followed suit.

There was silence, the loudest Thundercracker had ever experienced. Then their leader spoke.

“For once in my life, Starscream, I am not angry with you,” Megatron said quietly. “I am baffled, and want only answers. So explain.”

This was the tactician, the miner from Tarn who had counted every contingency. Not the Optimus-obsessed, battle hungry killer who had tried to force Glory into upgrade and possessed unimaginable cruelty. Thundercracker's struts eased with relief.

Starscream shifted uncomfortably. There was fire in his optics again, but probably to will himself into being who he was.

“I was acquitted in my trial for Skyfire’s murder,” Starscream began. “But I couldn’t find work. The war was around the corner, and even the Decepticon armies were hesitant to take in a murderer then. As you know.”

“I do,” Megatron acknowledged. “But I was under the impression you had known your trine then. Perhaps I was mistaken?” he asked, now turning to Thundercracker.

He nodded, finding his voice just in time. “Skywarp and I met Starscream near the end of our Seeker training,” he said. “We only knew he used to be a scientist.”

“As did I,” Megatron said. Normally, their lord being so interested in a subordinate's personal affairs was laughable. Obviously, Starscream was no ordinary subordinate. “Get to it quickly.”

“Yes, yes, I am. I found work, but couldn’t afford to keep my maintenance in check. I suppose my spark ground slipped and she was the result.”

There was cold, shocked silence in the room. Megatron stared, and Starscream stared back, his chin tipped up.

Soundwave was the first to speak. “Vector Sigma: creator of life,” he said. “Required.”

Starscream snorted. “How do you think they did it in the old days?” he asked. “When there were generations of sparklets, and the Senate traced themselves to Primal lines? Don’t be a fool, Soundwave. The law and expense prevent it, not the planet.”

“So you were too far in for the usual alternative,” Megatron said. Thundercracker’s tanks twisted—it had been common once, yes, but their race was so sparse now that maybe they should have just relaxed giving out the stupid keys.

Starscream nodded. “The sire wanted her,” he said. “Off-planet mech, Velocitronian.”

Megatron’s voice curled in mocking. “He must have been very taken with you, then,” he said. “Sparklets born without Vector Sigma are illegal, you recall. Meant to be re-educated.” _Or worse,_ unspoken but realized by all of them. Decepticon-born sparklets had always paid the highest price, Thundercracker guessed.

“And I paid a _hefty_ fine to prevent that,” Starscream snapped. _“And,_ we weren’t together. He was just soft sparked over his child.”

Autobots probably thought like the old Senate, and would think a newspark not from Vector Sigma was unlucky or something. He couldn’t hold with that, not with Glory such a joy to him and knowing how innocent sparklets really were. The whole point of this war, after all, had been about rising above your circumstances.

“So how did we get here, then, Air Commander?” Megatron asked. His optics glittered now with interest, though his smirk was cold. Thundercracker imagined that Starscream’s illegal, secret child was exactly the kind of the intrigue he would be interested in. Whether that was a good thing, Thundercracker couldn’t yet say.

Starscream’s fist closed on his thigh, something only Thundercracker could see.

“I gave her sire custody,” he said flatly. “She didn’t like me anyway. It freed me up to form my trine and join you, and I could check on her progress. I planned to fetch her when she was old enough to be of use.”

 _That_ alarmed Thundercracker. That had been why he tried to send Glory away, and had fought so hard to protect her childhood. Children were not for _use,_ but it wasn’t surprising Starscream thought of his own that way.

But with the way he treated Glory, maybe he really had known what his daughter’s best interests were. Was Starscream more self-aware than they gave him credit for? The idea gave him a headache, so he hoped not.

“How did she come to be in stasis?” Megatron asked. “I assume it happened during our long slumber, but Shockwave tells me we cannot know for sure until she can tell us.”

Starscream nodded. “I guessed she was dead when I could find no records. Difficult to research from this mudball, to be sure, but I could access the old census. She had last been living with her sire near Simanzi, about...200 years after our disappearance.”

Thundercracker winced. Megatron leveled a look his way and he straightened back up, because everyone knew Simanzi had been the Deceptocon's finest hour during their long sleep. They had conquered the planet—and halved their race. Thundercracker had found the loss unconscionable, even if Skywarp reminded him there was nothing they could do. He’d been thankful to learn that Windblade and Piston had made their home elsewhere, at least at the time.

“So we can infer that she survived Simanzi, and was put into stasis,” Megatron mused. “Fascinating, if true. A spark match revealed her parentage, so that is not in question.”

“Of course not,” Starscream said firmly. “I assume Shockwave wouldn’t waste my time otherwise.”

If “waste his time” meant “stir up old traumas Starscream had long ago pushed away” then, yes, Shockwave had very much _wasted Starscream’s time_.

Megatron ignored the slight, at least for the moment. “Shockwave’s medics expect her to wake up fully within days. We can get the full story from her, assuming no damage.”

“Of course,” Starscream said. He stood again, and was steadier now. “Lord Megatron, I have only one request.”

“And I am sure it will tax me,” Megatron said, leaning on his chair back.

“I demand she come and live with me,” Starscream said.

Megatron seemed as thrown was Thundercracker. “Do you?” he asked. “Because throughout your story, you have made it clear how poorly parenting suited you. You despise Glory.”

“Glory is a pest,” Starscream snapped. “But more importantly, Glory is not _mine._ End of story.”

If Thundercracker had his timelines right, the sparklet might not be that much older than Glory—not counting the 3.8 million years following Simanzi. He was struck with the realization that this was a playmate Glory’s age, a femme at that.

And despite everything, all the infuriating situations and failures and furies Starscream had put him through throughout this war…he was still his trine leader.

“I agree, sir,” Thundercracker said, surprising himself most of all. “Shockwave means well, but his academy is no place for children. It should be a last resort.”

Megatron leveled his gaze Thundercracker way. “You believe Starscream is a suitable parent to a child he doesn’t know?”

“I consider myself a suitable parent, and it was to a child I didn’t know,” Thundercracker said. “When she arrived, you said yourself that arrangements could be made. That we need to keep our children, especially femmes, close.”

“But you do not want Glory to fight,” Megatron said, more quietly.

“Not until she’s of age,” Thundercracker said. _Never_ was the true answer, but Megatron didn’t have to know that. Realistically, he never could. “There’s no reason another future Seeker can’t receive the same education as Glory. She’s thriving, and getting quite knowledgeable.”

To his relief, Megatron nodded in agreement. He was quiet for a moment, and Starscream’s wings quivered briefly as he waited for a response.

“If she’s found to be well from her ordeal…arrangements will be made,” Megatron said finally. “Her illegal status will, naturally, be waived. And I would prefer to observe a child of Starscream’s than wonder what she plots away from us.”

In Thundercracker’s experience, little girls rarely plotted past what kind of energon they wanted for dinner, or which movie they would watch with their doting uncles. He couldn’t imagine Starscream’s child would be much different.

But maybe she was. Everything, again, was upside down.

“Thank you, Megatron,” Starscream said after moment. “It's good to see that you can make a sensible decision once in awhile.”

“Don't push your luck,” Megatron growled. His hands squeezed tighter around his chair back. “You have not informed us of your offspring's name, Starscream. Or what she be might be like.”

“Updraft,” Starscream said. His optics glinted, clearly proud of his choice of designation. “Last I saw her, she had red plating, red optics, and was rather small for a sparklet.”

“Lord Megatron asked what she was _like,_ ” Thundercracker said, as gently as he could. “I know it's been awhile--”

“Intelligent,” Starscream said, interrupting. “Had clean habits. Impatient and talked back.”

“But it's been some time since you saw her,” Megatron mused. “Perhaps those bad qualities have improved. If not, they will quickly. I won't tolerate anything less.”

 _They'd better,_ Thundercracker thought. Glory's optimism had gotten her through the worst of it, but a less good-natured child might not adapt as well. Maybe he had spoken too soon, saying she should come live with her carrier...

...But Shockwave's academy certainly wouldn't make an optimist of her. They would simply all have to take this as it came, the same as they had with Glory.

“That will be all, then,” Megatron said. “Starscream, you will be informed when Updraft is awake and has given more context to her situation. Thundercracker...”

He stiffened. “Yes, Lord Megatron?”

“I expect you to assist the Air Commander in all sparklet-related matters he may need you to,” he said. “She won't be your responsibility, but it _will_ be your responsibility to help smooth this transition. Am I understood?”

“I...” Thundercracker couldn't imagine what exactly _smoothing this transition_ would entail. “Of course, Lord Megatron.”

“Good. You are dismissed.”

Thundercracker cornered Starscream the moment they were out of range of Megatron. As soon as the door had closed, a strange, sickly mix of feelings had burst in his spark, and he needed _answers._

“You abandoned your daughter?”

Starscream shoved his hand off his wrist. “No. I let her sire take custody.”

Thundercracker's optics narrowed. “And now, four million years on, you think a better life for her is coming here to live with you? You _hate_ my niece. You might be better than Shockwave, but how can I be sure you won't torment that child? She's been through enough!”

“Well,” Starscream said, (though now Thundercracker caught him looking away) “ _You're_ supposed to 'smooth our transition,' are you not? I suppose you'll keep an optic on me.”

“I will be,” Thundercracker said firmly. He was straightening up, getting ready to go and find Glory, when Starscream spoke again.

“I regret it, you know,” he said. “Giving her to Knock Out. Anyone from _my_ code and my spark is destined to do great things, Thundercracker. Not languish in some ratty stasis pod, away from her birthright.”

“I agree,” Thundercracker said after a moment. “Well...I hope she's alright.”

“Me too,” Starscream said. That must have been how he had sounded before he turned into the abrasive, overzealous mech he was now. He finally turned to go, and Thundercracker headed the other way, towards the Stunticon's quarters.

“Of course,” he heard Starscream saying, “Once she's older, it will also be a pleasure to have a _real_ loyalist on my side. Who can you count on if not your own spark and code, after all?”

Thundercracker considered it a credit to his own self-control that he didn't sigh out loud. With any luck, he could help Updraft get better prospects than _that._

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new arrival boards the Decepticon ship, and the last new arrival is full of questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be updating Soar Onward Sunday and Wednesday evenings, so new chapters are ready for Monday and Thursday! I really appreciate the people who give stories like this a shot--I've learned OCs really, really aren't for everyone and sometimes it's hard to find motivation just to post these stories, knowing they'll kind of sit with less clicks in a fic-heavy fandom. It's not about that, I know, but we all love validation :)
> 
> Thanks again to Kenya Starflight for writing the initial story. Chapters will be slowly getting longer, so don't worry about this first one being on the short side!

Glory had taken it well, so at least somebody was.

“Another sparklet?” she said in surprise. Then her optics lit up bright, flashing almost white in her realization. “A femme?”

Thundercracker smiled, in spite of himself. Glory had that effect. “Yes, and yes. It’ll probably be a few weeks before they send her.”

“I can’t believe it!” she said, scrambling up into Thundercracker's lap. He grunted in surprise, but quickly adjusted to her sudden weight and her plush cyberdragon pushed under his chin. “ _Starscream_ had a kid? All this time, and no one knew? It’s like—a book!”

In the corner, Wildfire had settled down quietly in horse mode. That was fine by Thundercracker—Glory’s bodyguard had long gotten over worrying he’d cause his little charge harm. Thundercracker didn’t point out that Glory's _own_ coming had been something like a story. In fact, there were parallels to her situation and Updraft’s that surprised him.

“A little,” he said. “But it’s not a story, and definitely not one to Updraft. She’s coming out of a very hard time, and she’s going to need us to be welcoming.”

“Updraft,” Glory said, musing on it. “That’s a pretty name. Good for a Seeker.”

“It is,” Thundercracker agreed. He didn’t think Glory herself would have a lot of trouble being welcoming, when it was her whole nature to be friendly. It was every other factor that he was worried about. “What I want you to remember is that she lost her sire, and she’s woken up to find everything is different. It’s going to be a little like when you came.”

That made her face fall, and he felt guilty for having to remind her of her parents. Still, it was necessary, and maybe it would help Glory see some parallels between them herself.

“I know how she feels, then,” she said, to his relief. “But it’s not quite the same. Her carrier’s still alive.”

“He is,” Thundercracker agreed, “but she was still very young when he went to war. Much younger than you when you got here. Updraft probably doesn’t remember Starscream at all.”

Glory nodded seriously. “So it guess it really is like me,” she said. She looked up at him, her optics brighter again. “That’s really not fair, Uncle T. All these families hurt by the war.”

Thundercracker’s spark constricted. Losing Windblade, his sister, had been compounded by becoming a parent very suddenly. Their own parents had died long ago, and he simply tried not to think about them too hard when things were at their worst.

“You’re right,” he said, pulling her closer. Wildfire lifted his head, huffed, and returned to dozing. “That’s why we’re fighting for peace. And that’s exactly why we’re going to help Updraft settle in as best we can. Starscream, too.”

“Starscream?” Apparently Glory had nearly forgotten that her least favourite person was part of this equation. “Uncle T—do you think he’ll be nice to her? I was scared of _you_ when I came, and you’re a hundred times better!”

“See, that’s my job in all this,” Thundercracker said. “Lord Megatron’s asked me to help the transition for them, since I have experience taking care of you. So I’m going to do my best to make sure he _is_ nice, and that Updraft knows this is a safe place. And, Glory, he missed her.”

Her optics were wide. “Really?”

“Really. He told me he regretted giving her to her sire, because she wasn’t with him. And then he thought she was dead.” He tapped Glory's chestplate, over her spark. “Starscream has…a very hard time with his feelings. And he suffered when he was young. It doesn’t mean he should be cruel, but there are reasons he is this way. He's…”

“Compensating?” Glory asked. She said it so matter-of-factly Thundercracker had to stifle his snort, and filed that one away to tell Skywarp. He hugged her close.

“He’s going to have to figure things out, is what,” Thundercracker said. “But we’re here to help.”

* * *

 

The next weeks were a flurry of ordering supplies, updates on Updraft's health…and cleaning, when Thundercracker discovered the state of Starscream’s room.

“Soundwave is going to revoke your exemptions,” Thundercracker said in disbelief. (Really, he was shocked they were still there. What kind of plots did Starscream have in those datapad piles?)

“I’m still a scientist, you know,” Starscream said, shoving an organic plant off his desk. “I don’t have _time_ to clean. Experiments, plans, tactics, my _actual_ work…it’s simply not a priority. Your room wasn’t looking so spic and span, if I recall.”

“There’s clutter, sir, and there’s _filth,_ ” Thundercracker said. “You’ve officially crossed into the latter, so you’d better pick what you want to save, fast.”

Updraft would have her own room when she arrived, something Thundercracker couldn’t give Glory. Starscream, being second in command, had a couple of adjoining rooms—the problem was he had filled them floor to ceiling with junk. Starscream had protested Thundercracker’s insistence, but he had only had to threaten to show Megatron to shut him up.

He was an expert at getting Glory to do her chores. Starscream simply took a firmer hand.

One busy off-shift and they had turned the rooms into something livable. (Well, mostly—Starscream’s own recharge area remained somewhat unfortunate, at his insistence.) Updraft would have her own exit, but Starscream would be able to enter from his own quarters as well. He hoped the privacy would help her adjustment.

Glory chattered whenever they had time together, about how much fun she'd have with a friend her age and what books and toys Updraft might like. Now she seemed to have forgotten the grief and fear that had held her when she first arrived, and despite their discussions he worried she was starting to expect a ready-made playmate.

“I'll be nice, Uncle T!” Glory said, her optics wide at the idea that she'd be cruel to another sparklet. “You know I will!”

“I know,” Thundercracker replied. “Just be gentle.”

When the news broke out, Swindle immediately offered to order a berth, books, and toys. He seemed thrilled at the business, even if it was for Starscream, but Thundercracker suspected it was also excitement at another sparklet to spoil. The rest of the base was abuzz, too, but it seemed to him the verdict was mixed.

Thundercracker had already guessed that a sparklet of Starscream’s would have a hard time, but to hear the disdain from some still wasn’t easy. It especially wasn’t usual to have cassettes at the forefront of common sense.

“She’s a kid,” Rumble said. “What’s she gonna do, overthrow Megatron’s feet? We managed Glory, and this will be the same diff.”

News trickled in when Updraft woke up, and Thundercracker managed to learn a little about her. The doctors didn’t think there was processor damage from her time in stasis, thank Primus. (Thundercracker didn’t think this could be said for all of the bots on the _Nemesis._ ) She was, according to her doctor's message, “quiet and wary,” but Thundercracker could hardly blame her. Apparently, she wouldn't say much yet about Simanzi, or how she'd come to be in stasis. A date was set for her arrival...and then it was really happening.

They stood in the same place they had years ago, waiting for the spacebridge to activate and for their new charge to appear. Starscream stood too stiff, his frown enough to potentially drive the poor kid right back through to Shockwave's base. Megatron and Soundwave stood at Starscream's other side, their arms folded, and Ravage standing patient at Soundwave's feet.

To his left, Skywarp yawned. Thundercracker elbowed him, and earned a glower in response.

_Look sharp,_ Thundercracker said over comm. _Don't give Starscream a reason to be more unhappy._

_Easy for you to say, mister Reduced-Flight-Load,_ Skywarp snapped. _I've been working for all three of us. With the_ coneheads, _TC. The things I do for you._

_Well, it'll be back to a new normal soon. We're going to be around this sparklet a lot, so do your best._

_I thought Glory would want to be here,_ Skywarp said.

_Not allowed. She wasn't happy about that._

_Kind of wish I'd stayed back with her. At least I could catch a nap._

Thundercracker didn't really believe Skywarp would have any problems with Updraft. He and Glory adored each other, and if anyone could help cheer up a lonely little girl, he'd put his shanix on it being Skywarp.

The spacebridge opened in a rush of light. “Here we go,” Starscream muttered next to him. His fists were clenched so tight that Thundercracker worried he would dent his own hands.

A truck, rolling slowly, came to a stop before them. “Lord Megatron,” he said respectfully.

“Soldier.” Megatron tilted his head towards his cab. “You've brought her?”

“She's in there. Quiet thing, sir.”

“No one else to meet us?” Starscream asked, stepping forward. “No attendants?”

The truck probably would have shrugged, had he been in in root mode. “No, commander. No one can be spared.” He transformed himself, thrusting out a datapad towards Starscream and leaving his trailer sitting before the spacebridge. “Sign the first and last page. And come on out, kid. You're home.”

Thundercracker heard a shift from inside the trailer, and a door open. Starscream didn't pause as he scanned the form, his wings held as high as they could be on his back, but Thundercracker had his optics on the door, and Skywarp was craning his neck.

There was the sound of someone small hitting the ground, and out stepped Updraft.

Even standing up straight, she was shorter than Glory, and smaller. Simple red plating with a black trim (well, where there was plating to paint) and a gray face darker than the norm, with red optics that were so Starscream-like Thundercracker reset his own. Her helm was simple, too: sleek with red audial fines and, if not Seeker-like, invoked something aerodynamic. She was frowning, and if all he'd had was a first glance he would call her serious and brave. But she turned to Thundercracker, her optics flashing, and he knew that wasn't true. The sadness and confusion were clear, as acute and aching as Glory's had once been. Like the crew of the _Nemesis,_ Updraft had woken into a world she didn't know.

_She's dirty,_ Skywarp commed.

His trinemate was staring too, but when the sparklet met his optics he quickly looked at Starscream. He had returned the document and was watching his daughter, and their optics were a mirror of each other's. Carrier and sparklet, reunited at last. It should have been a happy moment.

Thundercracker could now see that someone, maybe Updraft herself, had attempted to scrub off the grime on her paint, but closer up he realized it wasn't that simple. Plating had rusted out while she was in stasis, especially if liquid had damaged her pod. Hadn't the Forced Flood followed Simanzi?

He didn't blame her for looking away when Megatron's gaze fell on her. It was frightening enough to meet the Decepticon emperor for the first time _without_ being rusted up and walking into the unknown.

She finally approached, but Starscream didn't kneel to meet her. “Daughter,” he said quietly.

Thundercracker doubted she remembered him, but Starscream's wings quivered, and he knew there had been no mistake in parentage at his reaction. The little sparklet finally spoke.

“Carrier,” she said. It was more than Glory had said at first, and she did sound a little older. Was that her age talking, or her experiences?

Starscream gave her another long look, clearly taking in each crack in her paint and every rust-eaten point. “You can call me Starscream, if you wish,” he said after a moment. He looked acutely uncomfortable. “I have...not been a carrier in some time, and you haven't had one.”

Thundercracker couldn't imagine what Updraft had expected, but he could tell from her face that it wasn't this. Glory must have really softened him up, because he resisted the urge to bend down and give her a hug.

“Carrier is fine,” she said quietly.

“So you're Updraft,” Megatron said, stepping forward. She jolted, but turned towards him and straightened her little shoulders. “I thought they had repaired your damage.”

Updraft looked away. “My serious injuries were fixed, sir,” she said. “They said they didn't have time for...anything else.”

“It must itch,” Skywarp said. They all looked at him, and he stepped back from Megatron's withering gaze. “Sorry. I'm sure our guys can help you out.”

“Indeed,” Megatron said, looking at Updraft disdainfully. “I'm sure once you're refitted neatness will cease to be an issue. We have one sparklet femme on base already, so the situation has a precedent.”

Updraft's wide optics made it clear that she hadn't known this. She inclined her head, but Thundercracker thought it was to hide her face. “Yes, sir.”

“Will that be all from me?” asked the big mech who had brought her. Megatron turned sharply, waving his hand.

“Yes, get out of here,” he said. “We ought to be going, too, before Autobots stick their noses in. Starscream?”

Starscream seemed to return to Earth, looking down almost in amazement at Updraft. “Yes,” he said quickly. “Yes, of course. Updraft, you'll have to meet my trine properly later.”

Skywarp grinned, and Thundercracker made sure to wave, but on Megatron's signal they and Soundwave had to take off again, not looking back. Starscream wouldn't be thrilled about carrying Updraft home, but he had demanded she come there, and like it or not, Updraft was his responsibility. Their air commander had better make an effort.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new arrival's first evening starts rocky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Starscream was a jerk, and no one was surprised. As always, thanks so much for reading! Comments are my lifeblood.

Starscream wasn’t even inside before the trouble started.

Megatron and Soundwave had left, Ravage nowhere in sight (either stowed away or, more likely, ready to see what Starscream and Updraft did next). Thundercracker knew he’d been wise to wait for his trine leader in the landing dock when the panicked comm came through. _Get back up here. It's an emergency!_

No telling if Starscream was just being dramatic or if it really was one until he checked, so Thundercracker sighed.

“Let Glory know I’m running late,” he said to Skywarp, already turning back to climb out.

“But—”

“If I’m _really_ late you know the bedtime routine,” Thundercracker added, as he went back through the airlock, and quickly up through the water.

Had Starscream already dropped Updraft, and needed help finding her? On land, where she’d be damaged in the fall? Or over water, where the current could carry her away as Glory had once been?

It was neither, to his relief. His spark stopped constricting at the thought of another child going through yet more of what Glory had, when Starscream had all the power to keep her safe and they'd already learned the hard lessons. His trine leader hovered over the ocean's surface, thrusters displacing the water beneath his feet. He was holding Updraft, now in his arms rather on his back—

—But she wasn’t making it easy for him. Updraft had braced her heels against Starscream’s chest, scratching his finish, apparently trying to scramble over his head. Her optics were wild with fright, scrambling for something to hold onto, and at the sight of Thundercracker splashing up she almost toppled.

“She won’t—come— _down,_ ” Starscream grunted through gritted teeth. “Updraft, if you haven’t even arrived and are _already_ going to make my life hell—”

“I can’t!” Updraft cried. She clutched Starscream’s shoulder vent, finally pausing. “I—”

“What is it?” Thundercracker asked gently, before Starscream could speak. “Can you hold still, and tell us? Then you won’t fall, and we can help.”

Updraft finally seemed to notice that there was nowhere she could climb. Her little frame gave a shudder, before going still. It was enough for Starscream to safely clutch her, and he shot Thundercracker a murderous look.

“I…” Updraft paused, and looked away. Thundercracker followed her gaze to a particularly unpleasant looking rust spot, that had eaten the plating between her arm and her wrist. “It’s so deep. And liquid rusts you out. The doctor said it did…this.”

Starscream snorted in disgust, and Thundercracker had to resist the urge to snatch the little femme and fly a few calming laps. For both of them.

“Chemical compounds damaged you, over many years,” his trine leader said impatiently. “This is only saltwater. You’d have to be submerged for _another_ million years to damage our alloys.”

“Your carrier's right,” Thundercracker said. “And it looks a little murky from up here, but the dive only takes a minute.”

“You live underwater?” Updraft asked doubtfully. “It must be slow to move…”

“Did your long recharge make you stupid? We live on a _ship,_ ” Starscream said.

“None of that,” Thundercracker said, more fiercely. “No one diving down the first time likes it. Updraft,” he said, addressing only her, “Our base is warm and dry. As soon as we get through the airlock, we'll have a rinse, and then our medic will see you. You know how it feels when you get a shot?”

Starscream narrowed his optics, but Updraft tilted her head. Thundercracker smiled, and tapped his shoulder.

“It's not fun, but it’s over before you know it. This will be the same. Okay?”

It was a long moment, where he and Updraft both felt Starscream’s hard gaze. Finally, Updraft sighed—and then held out her arms.

“Okay,” she said, as Thundercracker’s hands met her. There was no comm discussion between him and Starscream, no agreement, but Thundercracker knew he was relieved to hand her over. He took Updraft carefully against him, and found that she weighed very little. Light plating, probably not terribly armoured. On Earth, that might have to change.

Starscream’s hands, now free, brushed over the new scratches on his chest.

“Hurry up, then,” he snapped, and dove.

Thundercracker and Updraft, hovering over the Pacific Ocean, looked for a moment at one another. The sparklet didn’t relax, but she did settle a more comfortably in his arms. He smiled.

“I haven't gotten to speak to you yet,” he said. “I’m Thundercracker, your carrier's wingmate. You’ll be seeing a lot of me here on Earth.”

Updraft nodded, optics bright with nervousness. “Hi,” she said, more shyly. “You already know me.”

“Well, I’m looking forward to getting to know you even better,” he replied. “My niece, Glory, lives on the base with us. You’ll probably meet her soon.”

“Okay,” she said quietly. “Glory’s a pretty name. I’ve never heard it before.”

“Funny you’d say that,” Thundercracker said. “She called your name pretty, too.”

Updraft seemed almost to smile, but the corners of her mouth only twitched. Then she frowned again, stiffening up.

“Let’s get it over with,” she said. He would have laughed if it wasn’t all serious—she looked like she was about to get spark surgery, not just dive down to an airlock.

“Alright,” Thundercracker said. “And…now.”

Updraft braced herself, and as promised, Thundercracker took them quickly to the door. He climbed into the hatch, one armed, and as the water drained shook off his wings. Updraft’s optics were still shuttered tight, but she looked around, and visibly relaxed as Thundercracker stepped through to the _Nemesis._ Starscream was there to meet them, tapping his foot in impatience, and Updraft recoiled a little in his arms.

Great. One hour, and she was already scared to death of her carrier.

“I’m sure she can walk on her own legs to the washrack,” Starscream said. “I doubt Hook will have time for a refit tonight, but he can assess the damage.”

Gently, Thundercracker set Updraft down. She didn’t take his hand, or step back from her carrier, but she didn’t move any closer. Thundercracker had to bite back his anger, and realized that it was going to be something he’d have to get used to. Sure, Starscream had missed her. He had certainly mourned Updraft in secret, but he obviously wasn’t making an effort to be any gentler for her sake. Maybe he really didn’t know how, but it was no excuse. Somehow he had managed to make Updraft’s transition go as badly as possible, and Thundercracker was going to have to do the damage control.

Rinsing was quick, and silent. Thundercracker tried to ask Updraft a question or two, but she had closed her lips, letting water wash over herself in silence. Every so often, she looked nervously over at Starscream, who didn’t once look back.

As they dried off, Thundercracker risked a comm. _You’re going to have to do better than this if you want to make up for lost time._

The look Starscream shot him was withering, but Thundercracker was used to those. _I_ am _trying. Not all of us can be born Seeker nursemaids, you know._

Starscream had been about to turn the handle of the medbay door, when it opened without him.

“ _OUT!”_ Hook roared, and out came Rumble, landing hard on his aft. “All troublemakers _OUT_ before you leave in cold storage!”

The cassette must have seen Updraft, but a moment later, Frenzy had knocked into Rumble and both of them tore down the hallway, giggling madly. Updraft's optics followed them with interest, but that wasn't unusual. There weren't many cassette carriers, or their companions, left these days.

Following them, laughing in delight, was Glory. There was wet purple paint on her fingers and chin, and Thundercracker could only guess what they had gotten up to in there. Unlike the cassettes, she noticed them, and paused. The look Thundercracker gave her wouldn’t have curdled energon, but he figured it would push it past its expiration. Of all the times for her to get into _something…_

“For spark's sake,” Starscream snapped, and Glory took a healthy step back. “Is there _no_ trial sparklets won’t put me through today?”

Without looking at Updraft, he stomped ahead, and lived up to his name.

“Hook! What is—Never mind! Get this place ready for a physical, Primus knows my offspring needs it!”

The door slammed and Hook bellowed something indistinct, but Thundercracker was good at filtering out noise. Glory had pushed herself against the nearest wall, but her optics were raking Updraft. The other sparklet, for her part, looked entirely baffled, and no less frightened.

“You’re Updraft?” Glory asked curiously. When the sparklet nodded, she straightened up, leaning forward curiously. “Are you okay? You look sick. I’ve never seen that much rust.”

_Oh, Glory!_ Thundercracker knew better than anyone that Glory was only curious, and probably surprised that she had gotten to see Updraft so soon. Still, Thundercracker kicked himself: he and this crew spoiled his niece, and he had clearly let her manners run off with her excitement these past weeks.

“Glory,” he said sharply, expecting Updraft to shrink back, or closer to him.

She didn’t. Instead, she looked more shocked than frightened, before her optics flashed vivid. Her plating ruffled up, in exactly the way Starscream’s did when he was furious.

“At least I’m not _rude,_ ” she snapped. “So get away from me. I'm obviously not okay.”

It wasn’t that Glory wasn’t used to being spoken to like that, because she lived with a few dozen grumpy Decepticons. What Thundercracker knew surprised her was that this frail-looking femme her age, her dreamed-of playmate, had spit fire at her the moment they met.

“Glory,” Thundercracker said quickly. “We’ll talk about this later. And you’d better be in bed by the time I get back.”

“Okay,” Glory said, in a much smaller voice. Then she bolted, and when she turned the corner Thundercracker heard antigravs roar to life.

Starscream poked his helm out just then. “Well?” he asked. “I don’t have all day.”

Updraft's optics still burned, but she now looked more shellshocked than angry. Without another word she walked quickly past Starscream, and pulled herself up onto the berth.

Thundercracker ended up observing the exam, because he was afraid to leave Updraft alone. (So far, he could hardly blame himself for considering it a disaster.) Hook, for his part, didn’t slam any tools down in his bad mood or grumble as he took Updraft’s vitals, checked her spark pulse, and took an energon sample. The silence in the workroom was suffocating, but whatever discomfort Thundercracker felt, Updraft was probably experiencing a hundred times over. He got only minimal enjoyment out of seeing that the medbay wall now read _DANGER: INCURABLE DISEASE PRESENT! THE HIGHLY DANGEROUS GRUMPY DOCTOR HAS BEEN IDENTIFIED AS THE CAUSE!_

(At least they’d called Hook a proper doctor. He wasn’t, but it had probably softened his response to the nonsense.)

“Your age?” Hook asked Updraft. “Your forms only had an estimate, but I assume you remember.”

“Minus 3.8 million years, of course,” Starscream said.

Hook rolled his optics, and Thundercracker knew it no matter how thick a Construction visor might be. “Of course. But I’m not _talking_ to you. Kid?”

“I’d had my third century when…before,” Updraft said quietly. Thundercracker raised his brows in surprise, and actually shared a glance with Starscream. Older than Glory had been when she came to them, but not too old to not be a playmate.

Close, in fact, to the age difference between him and Windblade. Something to think about.

“You're built very small,” Hook noted. “And your sparkpulse is fast.”

“Her spark is small,” Starscream said. They all looked at him, and Updraft looked at him in surprise. Thundercracker bet she didn't expect her carrier to have any answers.

“Perfectly bright,” he added, straightening up. “If I'm recalling correctly, Updraft?”

After a moment, she nodded. “Yes, carrier.”

“Well, I have your measurements, and can get the energon tested,” Hook said. “I don't think most of this damage is internal, just cosmetic. And, kid?”

Updraft looked up, and Thundercracker swore Hook's optics softened. Maybe Glory being around for lessons had warmed that icy spark of his. Even if she vandalized his space and was a right holy terror, apparently.

“Chin up,” he said, before briskly turning away. “It's not so bad down here, and you're lucky. There's a femme not much younger than you running around.”

Updraft made the slightest face, but Hook didn't see it. Starscream had already turned towards the door, and snapped his fingers, as if his daughter were a drone or turbofox.

“Well, there will be plenty of time for that later,” he said. “Come, Updraft. Say goodnight to Thundercracker.”

Updraft climbed down from her medical berth slowly. She glanced furtively at Hook, but said nothing else to him as she followed quickly behind her carrier.

“Goodnight, Thundercracker,” she said. Then they were gone, the door closing with a soft thump. He'd have to tell her another time that she could just call him TC—and that if she needed anything at all, he could help her. He hoped she'd worked the last part out herself.

Hook stared at Thundercracker for a long moment. Finally, he heaved a sigh, setting Updraft's sample inside the cold storage bin.

“So Glory will be back _first thing_ to clean up this slagging mess?” he asked, not even looking up.

“Of course,” Thundercracker said. “Uh...sorry about that.”

Hook huffed. “You never are, or you'd get her to stop. But I guess you have plenty more to worry about now, don't you? I thought _Glory_ was bad off at first.”

“Thanks,” Thundercracker said dryly. “I'll make sure she comes by early to clean up. Sorry again about the trouble.”

“You're not,” Hook called as he left.

He wasn't, really, and not just because it really was funny. (Glory was getting clever with her graffiti, and a proud uncle had to be impressed.) It was that were a hundred more things on his mind than there were a few weeks ago, and he wasn't sure what exactly to do about all of it.

Glory _was_ in bed when he got back, but two red optics stared back at him in the dark. Well, he couldn't force her to sleep, so he flicked on the small lamp as he sat on her berth's edge. Wildfire grunted unhappily, but didn't move from his place next to Glory's berth.

“Hook would like you to go in early tomorrow and clean up your mess,” he said. Glory pouted, squeezing the edge of her thermoblanket between her little fingers. “We've talked about the graffiti.”

“I know,” Glory said. “But it was so _funny—_ and Rumble and Frenzy helped.”

Thundercracker made sure not to show any evidence that it was, in fact, funny. “Well, whose idea was this little excursion?”

Glory sighed. “Mine. I'll clean it.”

“Good girl,” he said. It wasn't a night to lecture on that, not really. She'd heard it all before. “Why did you go out causing trouble, anyway? I thought Skywarp was with you.”

Glory smiled, her big optics all mischief. “We were watching human TV in his room, but he's so tired from double shifts that he was 'just resting his optics.' He's still recharging.”

Thundercracker sighed. “Well, next time don't take advantage of him being too tired to watch you. I'm still going to be very busy this next little while, so I need you to behave and do what you're supposed to.”

“With Updraft, right?” she asked. She glanced around furtively, and Thundercracker knew _she_ knew what the real trouble was. “I...don't think I was very nice, Uncle T. I didn't mean it.”

“I know,” Thundercracker said. He reached out, idly stroking her purple helm. “But I think you have to look before you leap, Glory. I don't think you would have liked it very much if another little femme had been here your first day, asking you about your appearance.”

Unlike with the graffiti, or escaping Skywarp, now Glory looked completely sorry. “I know she was upset,” she said, more quietly. “She told me so.”

“Don't take it too hard,” Thundercracker said. “This might have been the hardest day of her life so far.”

“Yeah,” Glory said. “I think my first day here was second.”

Thundercracker squeezed her hand, as his own tanks constricted. The worst day, of course, went unsaid. “Well, she's probably going to keep to herself the first few days, but after that, you can introduce yourself properly and apologize. She's not that much older than you.”

“How old is she?” Glory asked, leaning forward curiously. “She was littler than _me.”_

In spite of himself, Thundercracker smiled. “Well, you're not even a vorn old. She's about three centuries—a good few more vorns than that. That's how much older Windblade was than me, and we were very close.”

Glory's optics were wide. “Really?”

“Really. So you'll apologize, and see if you can't find some common ground, right?'

Glory reached forward, putting her arms tightly around him. Thundercracker hugged her back, pleased they'd come to an understanding, and that he hadn't been wrong about Glory's compassion.

“I will. Love you, Uncle T.”

“Love you too. Now, it's getting late. I'm gonna get some work done, and you can get your recharge cycle in.”

“Got it,” she said. Her optics sparkled as he shut off the light, bright in the darkness. “Not _World of Warcraft?_ Your guild is gonna kick you out if you keep this up.”

“ _Goodnight,_ Glory _.”_

He'd get in a raid after she was out, but she didn't have to know that. Or he'd never live it down.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thundercracker loses his temper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I really appreciate reading and commenting on stories like this! This one was a lot of fun for me and I'm glad I'm sharing it. I always love to hear people's thoughts!

Glory couldn’t find Updraft after that. Her uncle told her she was probably just resting in her room, the same as Glory had at first, but Thundercracker walked around with stiff wings and pursed lips, so she knew he was worried, too. One afternoon the medbay and workshop were closed, with Starscream pacing outside before storming off to do extra flight drills.

“New kid's had her refit,” Rumble whispered to her one morning. Trust a spy to know what was the matter. “Dunno what he’s so worried about. You don’t even have to go under for plating fixes like that.”

Glory thought she would see Updraft after that, but she still didn’t appear. She wondered why Starscream had been so worried, when it was so clear he didn’t even want to bother with his daughter?

“Parents worry,” Thundercracker reminded her, tapping her helm. “You’ll get a chance to talk to her soon.”

“You’re my uncle,” Glory said. “You still worry.”

Thundercracker shot her a rare grin. “I can be an uncle _and_ a parent. I’m raising you, right?”

“You’ve got to be better at it than _Starscream,_ though,” Glory said. Thundercracker smiled, clearly pleased.

“Maybe, but I’ve had way more practice,” he said. “We're going to have to hope Commander Starscream settles into it.”

Glory did not have high hopes. She felt sorry for Updraft, cooped up with that nasty mech and having to know that they shared _coding,_ that she had lived on his spark. She felt even even sorrier when she remembered how she’d made Updraft snap at her that first night. Of course it had been a senseless, callous thing to say, and no way to make a friend. If someone had talked to Glory like that she would have been even more frightened, and felt somehow more alone.

And of everyone, Glory had decided, she knew most about what Updraft must be going through.

They were taking morning fuel when she finally saw her. It was quieter than usual, the low buzz of mechs chatting over fuel dialed down to a murmur. Thundercracker and Skywarp were each bent over datapads, Skywarp drowning in concentration.

“What _is_ all that?” Glory asked, now that her energon was mostly done and Thundercracker could no longer just tell her to drink it. “You’ve flipped through like a hundred pages of that pad.”

“Family history forms,” Thundercracker said. “Hereditary disease index, functions performed by yourself and related mechs, any family that might still be alive.”

“They’re due at noon,” Skywarp groaned. “It’s cause of Starscream’s kid. Megatron doesn’t want any more surprises.”

“No more mystery sparklets,” Glory said, seeing the point of this exercise.

“Exactly,” Skywarp said. He looked up at the door opening, and straightened in surprise. “Speaking of, there’s ours.”

The mess had gone silent, and Glory looked at the entrance and saw why. There was Updraft, looking freshly painted, making her way steadily towards the dispenser. By herself, Glory noticed with surprise. She herself was rarely running around unsupervised, and _especially_ not when she’d first arrived. She’d really been little then, but maybe Updraft was old enough to get her own energon.

From the looks on Skywarp and Thundercracker’s faces, they disagreed. Updraft didn’t look at anyone, taking a small cube off the rack and filling it as most of the _Nemesis_ wasn’t staring her down. Glory finally noticed that Soundwave was absent, though his cassettes were all present at their table. A high command meeting, then. Starscream and Megatron almost never took their fuel with the troops, and if they were busy planning raids or battles than Soundwave would be with them.

“Updraft,” Thundercracker called. She looked up in alarm, clearly not expecting to be addressed in this silence. “Come and sit. It's very nice to see you back out and about.”

Updraft hesitated, but Glory followed her gaze and saw no empty tables. The other sparklet nodded, and finally climbed onto the seat next to Thundercracker, across from Glory.

Skywarp grinned at her right away. “Well, you clean up good, don’t you? Good to see you again.”

Updraft actually smiled for a second, and Glory realized how pretty she was when she didn’t look so nervous. Looks weren’t priority in the Decepticons, of course (though her mother and father had been a good-looking couple, and Thundercracker told her she’d look just like Windblade someday), but Glory loved beautiful things. Updraft wasn’t a _thing_ , but she still had bright red optics, and a striking dark face. Her plating had more red than before the refit, and it gleamed. Hook had obviously worked hard to make her presentable.

“Thank you,” she said. Nothing like the angry, wild voice from a week ago. “You’re Skywarp, right?”

“That’s me,” he said, grinning wide. “The very coolest person aboard. I'd say Glory there is second, and TC ranks like eleventh or twelfth.”

Glory grinned, and Thundercracker sighed. Updraft watched her curiously, and there was suspicion in her optics. Quickly, Glory held out her hand.

“I wasn’t very nice to you when we met,” she said. Updraft’s optics went wide in surprise. “I’m really sorry. I know what it’s like to end up here and not know anyone.”

Updraft stared at her offered hand, and Glory realized, with some alarm, that the rest of the mess hall was probably staring, too. For a worrying moment she thought that Updraft wouldn’t accept her apology, and she almost pulled her hand back, but then Updraft took it with her smaller one.

“I wasn’t all that nice either,” she said. “I’d like to hear sometime about how you got here, Glory.”

“Well, it’s not a happy story,” Glory said, but despite that her spark thrilled despite the ebb of grief. “But it's short. My parents got killed in a bombing, and Uncle T was my only living relative.”

“You can call me TC, if Thundercracker is too long,” her uncle said, smiling at Updraft. “But maybe not around your carrier.”

“Okay,” Updraft said. She finally took a sip of her energon, making a face as she did. Skywarp grinned wide.

“You get used to it,” he said. “Sometimes we can only raid from coal-burning plants. But there’s always enough.”

“Is your carrier in a meeting, then?” Thundercracker asked. For a moment, Updraft looked frightened, like she needed to know a certain answer. Then she shrugged.

“I guess so,” she said. “I haven’t seen him in two days.”

“What?” Skywarp said. Thundercracker stared at her for a moment. Glory realized, to her relief, that everyone had seemed to lose interest, and were talking among themselves or poring over their forms again.

“He's been bringing me fuel, but yesterday he didn’t, and today I was hungry.” She shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “It wasn’t that hard to find.”

“You shouldn’t have to find it,” Thundercracker said. “It’s his job to make sure you’re well looked after.”

Glory still didn’t have high expectations for that (they had, incredibly, gotten lower), and she doubted Updraft did either.

“If you want, you can come fuel with us every day,” she said. “Uncle T and Warp have early shifts a lot, but sometimes I’ll come with Swindle or the Stunts.”

Updraft looked at her for another long moment, as if weighing her options. “Okay,” she said finally.

“It’s only if you want to,” Thundercracker said gently. “You’re safe here. If you’re comfortable getting it by yourself, that’s okay.”

“No, it’s okay,” Updraft said. “Should I run it by my carrier…?”

“I’ll take care of it,” Thundercracker said. He smiled at her, the way he did at Glory. “No one wants to sit in their room all day.”

Updraft looked a bit like she did, but nodded. “Thank you,” she said. She downed the rest of her energon quickly, and started to step down from her seat. “I’d better be getting back, in case he’s looking for me.”

Skywarp started to stand up. “My shift is later,” he said. “Monitor duty, _super_ boring. How about I walk you back?”

Updraft shook her head quickly, holding her cube in front of her like a shield.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Thanks, Skywarp.” Without another word, she had disposed of her cube, and slipped back off towards the door. Thundercracker waited till she was gone to sigh in disgust.

“That _carrier_ of hers will be the death of me,” he said. “If she's such a hassle to him, why bring her here?”

“Dunno,” Skywarp said, standing. “Status symbol? Attention? Not knowing what the hell he wants, ever?”

“Language,” Thundercracker said. Mechs were starting to get up as well, as the shifts were about to change. “Let’s talk to him after our flight. He’ll probably be easier to guilt if he’s been out. Glory, you’re with Soundwave this morning, right?”

Her face fell. “Yeah.” Skywarp chuckled as she made a show of _slowly_ sliding off of the bench. Soundwave was unbearably boring, and she might as well just watch a spacebridge turn on and off for how much good it did her.

Thundercracker knew Soundwave bored her to tears, but it wouldn’t get her out of her class. “I know _you_ know your way around, so go ahead to his office. He told me you were late last week.”

“It was _Astrotrain's_ fault,” Glory moaned. “He punched Blitzwing and he hit an alarm on the wall, and _then_ —”

“Okay, okay, regale me later,” Thundercracker said. “I'll see you tonight. Love you.”

“Love you too, Uncle T!”

He had places to be, so she activated her antigravs and zipped past them, out the door. A few mechs grunted as she rushed past (she wasn’t _supposed_ to fly inside), but she did this so often that Thundercracker would forget to scold her about it. Or, possibly, he had given up

Maybe Rumble and Frenzy would be around, and they could talk after her lesson. She had so much to tell.

* * *

 

It took a significant amount of self-control for Thundercracker to just do his maneuvers and not rip Starscream a new one right in the air. On the right wing, Skywarp wobbled, probably purposefully, and Thundercracker wished he wouldn’t. Starscream would be irritated enough later without antics.

They finally landed, and all of them were perfect. Starscream didn’t comment on that, which meant he was satisfied, and he and Skywarp stood at attention until Starscream waved his hand. “At ease, Seekers.”

Why he insisted on that when there were only _three_ of them up there, he didn’t know, but the moment Starscream closed his mouth Thundercracker opened his.

“Your daughter came into the mess today to have her energon,” he said. “She also said you didn’t bother to show her where it was, or make sure she fueled the day before.”

Starscream's optics narrowed. “Well,” he said. “She’s found it now, hasn’t she? I don’t hear a peep out of her at home, and the past few days have been _extremely_ busy. She—”

“Oh, don’t you give me any of that shit!” Thundercracker snapped. Starscream went still, because Thundercracker never swore, much less in _human_ language. They were effective, yes, but coarse. Usually he tried to stay above that stuff.

“Wow,” Skywarp whispered. Before Starscream could start yelling, Thundercracker carried on.

“You came to me desperate because your child was alive, and you were stunned,” he said. All thoughts of being polite, or broaching the subject delicately were gone. “You wanted help, I _know_ you did, because you always come to me when you’re in trouble. My job, under orders from our leader, is to make sure you _adapt_ to this new normal. That means keeping you from abusing and neglecting your daughter. I’ve seen you do the former, and I have evidence now of the latter. You are _already_ failing her, and it’s making me regret supporting you.”

Starscream stared at him, looking utterly stunned.

“What did she tell you?” he asked finally. Thundercracker’s spark flared white.

“She hasn't said a word against you, and don’t you dare give her trouble for what I’m telling you,” Thundercracker said, his voice low and tight. He felt like how little Updraft had looked, when Glory had given her an absolute last straw a week before. “She said she didn’t see you yesterday, and she was hungry. That’s all. But I can figure out a whole lot from that, and what I’ve worked out is she’s miserable, and terrified of you.”

Starscream wasn’t used to Thundercracker being _quite_ this honest, that was clear. His wings had hiked him, his optics wide and bright with shock and fury.

“Well,” he said. Thundercracker wondered if he’d be disciplined, but he was so angry that he didn’t care. The war had taken enough from Updraft without cursing her to be cared for by Starscream. Their trine leader, optics still wide, vented slowly, in and out.

(Was that a camera light? Was Skywarp really filming this? Thundercracker would kill him next, as soon as he was done with Starscream.)

“ _What,_ then,” Starscream said softly, “do you propose I do, Thundercracker? Answer carefully, because orders or not, I do still outrank you.”

Now he had gone and made things dangerous. Thundercracker folded his arms.

“Ensuring she’s fed isn’t hard,” Thundercracker said. “It’s the easiest part, in fact. Either take her to fueling yourself or make sure you know when she goes, and who she’s with. But I have one more proposal.”

“ _Do_ tell,” Starscream drawled. He was shaken, though, and Thundercracker could see his resolve cracking. Starscream hated to be wrong, but hated it a hundred times more when his trine, and not Megatron, told him so.

“It sounds like she’s just sitting in her room all day,” Thundercracker said. “You’re a busy mech, but that’s not acceptable. You won’t make a good Seeker of her without an education.”

“And you propose…?” Starscream began. He'd tilted his head, just a little. Interest.

“That she have lessons, of course,” Thundercracker said. “She’s too young to download them, and getting old enough to learn complex concepts.”

Starscream folded his arms, but his optics were glinting. “Well, you're…correct on that front,” he said. “I suppose the best lessons she’ll ever get _are_ from me. But I don’t have time to teach her.”

“You can set aside one shift a week,” Thundercracker said. “I'm sure you can spare it. For the rest of them, she can just go with Glory.”

“No,” Starscream said immediately. “Glory is younger, _and_ a pest. She’ll only teach Updraft bad habits.”

Thundercracker resisted the urge to sigh, because he’d already hit his quota of pushing Starscream’s buttons for the week.

“Glory understands what Updraft’s going through, is generally a good student, and isn’t _that_ much younger,” Thundercracker said. “No one has time to devote another shift to another sparklet. But she can follow Glory’s schedule, we can learn where she’s at academically, and she’ll be occupied every day. Megatron will approve.”

“He will,” Starscream sighed, as disgusted and dramatic as he could make it. “Where is Glory at in her flight tactics, troop maneuvers, and higher sciences?”

“Well…not far,” Thundercracker admitted. “Why do you ask?”

Starscream smiled. Not good. “She’ll have to work under me eventually,” he said. “And while you’re passable in at least two of those disciplines, I _am_ superior in every way. When Updraft takes her lessons with me, Glory will join her.”

Starscream of Vos was the most confusing person alive. He hated Glory, avoided her and Glory him, and had balked at having the time to teach his _own_ sparklet. Suddenly, Starscream had found a reason he wanted to teach Glory, and Thundercracker was understandably suspicious. Beside him, Skywarp had wrinkled his nose, like Starscream had started smelling bad.

“If I let Glory do that, can Updraft join her for the rest of them?” Thundercracker said. “Your daughter should be well-rounded in her education.”

Glory wouldn’t like this at all, and that was the part Thundercracker felt guilty about. But Starscream was correct—if Glory became a Seeker (and all signs pointed to it), she would have to answer to Starscream, and she couldn’t be frightened of him when it happened.

Starscream thought about it for longer than he needed to, because he was infuriating and wanted Thundercracker to wait.

“Fine,” he said finally. “I’ll submit this proposal to Megatron, who will almost certainly approve it, and then she can start lessons.”

“There’s one more condition,” Thundercracker said.

Starscream raised a brow. “I thought, Thundercracker, that you were convincing _me?_ ”

“Well, I have,” Thundercracker said. “And it’s clear you’ve found something in it that satisfies you. My only condition is this: Glory is scared of you. You’ve made her scared. But you’re right...she needs to learn to work under you. So you’ll treat her respectfully. If I’ve found out you've insulted her, made her cry, or tried to harm her—”

“Get to the point, Thundercracker,” Starscream snapped.

“—then Wildfire is going to kill you,” he finished. Skywarp grinned in delight, and quickly had to hide it. “Her guard goes with her everywhere, of course.”

“Of course,” Starscream said in disgust. His wings twitched fearfully, though--he'd felt Wildfire's wrath before. “Very well, Thundercracker. I’ll submit the proposal, and you’re both dismissed.”

When Starscream flew off, Skywarp let out a long, admiring whistle.

“You should dress Starscream down more often,” he said. “But—Glory won’t like that. The Starscream lessons, I mean.”

“I know,” Thundercracker sighed. “But Wildfire will keep her safe, and she _should_ learn all those things. It’s a bitter pill—one she'll hopefully swallow for Updraft’s sake.”

“Okay,” Skywarp said, a little doubtfully. “You’re the parent, TC, not me. I’ll trust you on this.”

Glory did not take it well. She looked so frightened, in fact, that Skywarp shot him a withering look and Thundercracker almost changed his mind right there. (But he’d already sent his own proposal to Megatron, to make sure Starscream did the same.)

“It'll help Updraft very much if you go with her,” Thundercracker said. “You’ll learn a lot—and they’ll be those complicated flight things you’ve been asking questions about.”

“Wildfire can go with me?” she asked. Skywarp grinned, and pulled her onto his lap.

“Of course!” he said. “Do you think we’d let you that close to Starscream without backup?”

“Warp,” Thundercracker said in warning. “Glory, Starscream won’t hurt you. Wildfire goes with you everywhere, so of course he can go there too.”

“Updraft will come to all my lessons?” she asked. Now she did sound more interested.

Thundercracker smiled. “Yes. And I’ll make sure you can fly with the three of us sometimes. I understand Updraft got antigravs in her refit. I'm sure she'd love to see how someone her size uses them.”

Glory’s face lit up, so Thundercracker had won her over. She _loved_ flying, and he was willing to bet that a child of Starscream’s would love it, too.

“So what do you say?” Thundercracker asked. “Can you be brave for me?”

Still in Skywarp’s lap, Glory straightened up, and nodded. “Yes, Uncle T.”

“Good. Now, let’s see about showing Skywarp how much better we are than him at Mario Kart, hmm?”

“Oh, it’s on!”

“Ha! We’re gonna get you, Warp!”

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hard lessons aboard the Nemesis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter one this time, but never fear, these get progressively longer! Enjoy, and thank you to those who have left their feedback :)

Apparently Updraft had gotten herself a map, or at least directions, because when Glory and Thundercracker arrived in the common area for a lesson, she was waiting quietly in a corner, datapad in hand.

They liked to use the smaller common room if the base was quiet—it was better not to study where you slept, her uncle said. Today the command trine was around, and Soundwave, but much of the base had been tapped for a major energy acquisition, including Megatron himself. Glory was relieved, because today Thundercracker was safe from that mission and she’d have him all to herself.

Well, mostly. Glory grinned at Updraft, letting go of Thundercracker’s hand to skip ahead and settle herself on the couch next to her. Wildfire knew the routine—he settled himself under the table, turned once, and lay down for a recharge.

“Good morning!” Glory chirped. “Welcome to school, _Nemesis_ style.”

Updraft smiled, but it wasn’t as big as Glory had hoped. “Morning,” she said. “Starscream left me some blank datapads.”

Thundercracker nodded, settling in across from them. “Good. Glory, can you turn to your questions on the Sigma Age and work on them for a bit? I just want to see where Updraft is at in her studies.”

Glory did as asked, but her mind was only partially on Nova Prime's first Seeker team. She kept one audial on Updraft, as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat next to Glory.

“I was at Rodion Academy when the war got close,” Updraft told him. “I was supposed to be going on to secondary the next vorn, but all the schools were closed.”

“Well, I'm sorry you couldn’t,” Thundercracker said. “But that makes it a little easier for us to decide where to get started. Do you remember what you covered?”

Updraft listed classes, and units, and Glory found herself a little impressed. Her schooling wasn’t terribly formal, except for her lessons with Soundwave and Thundercracker, and most of it centred on something closer to job training. It was vital she knew the hard skills involved in this war machine, and it was frankly all more interesting than academics. She wondered if Updraft’s sire had been rich.

Thundercracker was nodding, seeming satisfied, and Glory felt Updraft relax.

“I’m going to treat you like a secondary student,” he said. “Academically, I'm guessing you’re on schedule. Did you make good grades?”

“Yes,” Updraft said. She sounded like she was smiling. “I skipped ahead my second-to-last year.”

Updraft was older, Glory told herself. Of course she’d be more advanced, _and_ she’d gone to a good school. Still, she felt a quick, hot wave of jealousy. She couldn’t slack any more, not with a competitor.

“Well, what you’ll have to catch up in is your hands-on lessons,” Thundercracker said. “Glory goes to different mechs and teams every day, to learn about their roles on base and the battlefield. They’re not teachers, but they’re knowledgeable. It’s to help you learn what your function will be.”

“I thought Megatron wasn’t a Functionist,” Updraft said. Glory paused, now _really_ interested, because her tone had changed. “I’m not. My sire said Decepticons are better than just bodyguards and mining equipment.”

“And we are,” Thundercracker said. He sounded a little surprised at her intensity. “Megatron certainly is not a Functionist. I did just use archaic wording, you're right. It doesn’t have to be your only one, or your purpose in life.”

“I thought the Functionists were just a small group,” Glory said. Thundercracker and Updraft both looked at her, and she shrugged. “Just some jerks. We haven’t studied that part of history yet.”

“No, we haven’t,” Thundercracker agreed. “We’ve covered a lot of the war itself, and the pre-war age, but there’s proof I’m not a real teacher. We’ve never gotten too deep into why it all _started._ ”

“Neither did we, to be honest,” Updraft said. “I only know about it because Dad hates—hated them. And he had good reason.”

Thundercracker's optics brightened with interest, and they lingered on Glory. Uh oh. She hadn’t thought about how having a classmate would open her up to having an _audience._

“Updraft,” he said, to her relief. “Can you tell us about what a Functionist is? Maybe even why it started? Glory can put aside her Nova Prime era work this week.”

Updraft straightened up, like she was still in a classroom being called on. “Functionists think that the only job you can do is your original alt mode’s,” she said. “What you’re supposed to do in society is based on it, and you’re rejecting yourself if you change your mind.”

“But that _is_ how it goes,” Glory said. Now she was confused, and she didn’t want to be that around someone she didn’t know well. “The Constructicons are construction equipment, with the right tools built in to do their jobs. _You're_ a Seeker, Uncle T, and that’s a whole job.”

“Some mechs _are_ very comfortable in their function,” Thundercracker said. “They’re lucky—I’m lucky—but there was a lot more to it than that. It was more about how these Functionists wanted to organize society, less about the jobs themselves.”

“’ _Every shape serves a purpose,”_ Updraft said. “That’s what they’d say. Right, TC?”

“But they do,” Glory said, more frustrated. “We couldn’t _do_ anything if everyone’s shape didn’t serve a purpose.”

“Glory, imagine that you were born a truck,” Thundercracker said. He was looking at her very seriously, more than usual. “Not sparked, but constructed. You came off an assembly line and they said, 'okay, Glory, your shape serves a purpose. You’re going to haul things long distances, between cities.’ So you do. You do your best, but it’s hard work, and it doesn’t pay well. But in the Grand Cybertronian Taxonomy, you’re a truck, and you haul things. That’s how much trucks who haul things get paid. Following so far?”

“Yes,” Glory said, frowning. “But, Uncle T, my dad was a scientist. But he wasn’t a microscope or a centrifuge or anything like that. Just a tank.”

Thundercracker nodded. “You were born after about four million years of war,” he said. Beside her, Updraft stiffened—it was a long time to be on pause in the world. “Megatron’s not a Functionist, and Piston was very, very smart. Windblade, too. They continued their education to learn how to work with chemicals. What do you think Piston would have been doing, if we were all Functionists?”

Glory was frowning now. She was embarrassed, to have thought that this thing Updraft obviously hated could be in any way good. If Megatron hated it too, it _certainly_ couldn’t be.

“He’d probably be on the front lines,” she said. “Or weapons support. Mom would have been flying with you.”

Thundercracker nodded. “Windblade wanted options,” he said. “Seekers have a job, but she was smarter than me—and didn’t want to fight yet.”

“You can’t just be yourself with Functionists,” Updraft said. “My sire was forged with wings, but he wanted to be a racer. They kicked him out of medical school because of it, Vos was so Functionist, so he ended up doing mods instead.” She shrugged. “But he got his wheels before I was born.”

Thundercracker looked at her in surprise. “Starscream told me your sire was from Velocitron,” he said. “A colonist.”

Updraft smiled a little wider. “He spent lots of time there, because almost everyone's a racer. Maybe keep me saying that from my carrier, though.”

Thundercracker’s mouth twitched in a smile, and he turned back to his datapad. “I’m aware your carrier and sire weren’t together very long. It might have been safer at the time to claim to be a colonist than a flier-turned-roller. There’s another thing that Functionism causes, Glory: mistrust. You could never be sure if someone thought highly of it, or was more open minded.”

“So…nothing changes, is basically it,” Updraft said. Glory nodded.

“No one can decide they want to go to school, or learn a new job—or try another alt mode,” she said. It clicked. “Is that why Megatron went to war? To stop it?”

“Well, that’s part of it,” Thundercracker said. “But there’s a lot more to it than that. Remember how Megatron wrote a book? _Towards Peace?”_

“Yes,” she and Updraft said together. They looked at one another, then grinned. Thundercracker smiled, too. It was nice to share a moment, even a very little one.

“Well, I still think it’s a little too old for you, but you and Updraft can study it together,” he said. “That can be our first big unit with more than one student.”

“I haven’t read it yet,” Updraft said. “It will probably make Lord Megatron happy if we do.”

“Definitely,” Thundercracker agreed, though Glory knew that wasn’t why he’d set it. “I have a copy, and I'm sure someone else has a second one for you, Updraft. You guys can go through it and make notes on Functionism, and other things you think are important.”

“Not the whole thing for next week,” Glory said. She slumped, and her uncle shook his head.

“No, Glory. The first two essays for next week. Then we'll—”

The common room door opened hard, like it had been shoved aside. Glory jumped, and right away shrank back. There stood Megatron, stone-faced, and Starscream, his optics burning with fury. Wildfire lifted his head, suddenly awake and ready to do his job, but saw Megatron was among the intruders. Right away, he inclined his equine head respectfully.

“Lord Megatron,” Thundercracker said quickly, jumping up right away. Glory noticed how he stepped just a little bit in front of her and Updraft. “I trust the mission was a success?”

“It was,” said their leader. His optics lingered on Updraft, who had gone stiff. “But there is a pressing matter we must attend to.”

Starscream pushed past him then, into the room. “You’ve kept things from us,” he snarled. Updraft's optics darkened in fear, and Glory pressed herself against the couch's stiff back. “And lying by omittance is still lying, Updraft.”

“Begging Lord Megatron’s pardon,” Thundercracker said crisply, “But Commander Starscream is hardly one to talk about lying.”

“Indeed,” Megatron said, as Starscream’s wings dipped lower. “It is not so much lying, Thundercracker, as it is that young Updraft has not spoken a word about Simanzi and how she came to be alone. _Or_ , more importantly, about her health. Her test results are back.”

Glory stared at Updraft. The other sparklet caught her optic, but gave her head a tiny shake. _Don’t say anything,_ it said clearly.

Thundercracker looked surprised. “She seems to be in perfect health to me—”

“We’ve only seen the superficial,” Starscream interrupted. “Now, come. We will finally _sort all this_ and I will live my life as I deserve again.”

Glory vowed to play some elaborate, cruel trick on Starscream as soon as she could, one she'd be grounded for a month over but was fully deserved. Thundercracker looked more like he wanted to hit him.

Megatron nodded to Updraft. “Come then, child,” he said. “You are not young enough any more to play ignorance about these things. You too, Thundercracker.”

Her uncle nodded slowly. “Go home, Glory,” he said, not looking at her. “I’m sure we won’t be long.”

“But—”

“ _Go,_ ” said four voices. Three stern adults and one frightened child.

Glory knew when not to protest. “Okay, Uncle T. Yes, Lord Megatron.”

Before she could meet optics with Starscream, or worse, she slipped past them all and _ran_ , hearing Starscream yelp as Wildfire crashed past him and followed.

She didn’t run home. She slipped around a corner and went still, nodding for Wildfire to do the same. And waited.

“Are we going to the medbay?” Thundercracker asked, coming up the main hallway.

“No,” Megatron said. His strides were long, and Glory could hear Updraft’s little ones clicking behind him to keep up. “My office.”

If she waited, and followed, she could probably settle herself in front of the locked door, and catch a few words. But that wouldn’t be enough, and it ran the risk of being caught and in _deep_ trouble.

But Glory knew a better way to learn what you needed to know.

Frenzy was exactly where he or Rumble could generally be expected, when Soundwave was busy working: doing something pointless and inexplicable.

“I need your help,” Glory said. Frenzy's grin, wide for her (and…whatever he was about to do with that much ketchup), faltered at the look on her face.

“Everything good, kid?” he asked. “Your uncle can’t help you?”

“No,” she said. She stepped in closer, lowering her voice. “I need to hear what’s happening in Megatron’s office.”

Rumble would have said _yes_ without hesitation, but Frenzy paused. Glory found him easier to get angry, especially without his brother's warmer presence. He tilted his head.

“What’s it about?” he asked. “Your uncle in trouble? Are _you_ in enough trouble that he has to talk to Megatron? 'Cause if yes, I'm impressed.”

Glory shook her head. “No. They’re talking to Updraft and I want to hear.”

Now Frenzy’s smile returned. “Starscream Junior,” he said. “I see. Well, you’ve come to the right place. Be _very_ quiet, and follow everything I do, okay? We'll make a lesson of it.”

“Sure,” Glory said. “As long as I can hear them.”

Frenzy’s optics glittered with delight. “Then follow me, kid. I'll make a spy of you yet.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Updraft makes her case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a fun one! Thanks so much for reading and commenting, guys, it's so appreciated. Glory and Updraft deserve massive amounts of love.

It was a testament to Frenzy's skill that he got himself, Glory, _and_ Wildfire squeezed into the same insulated vent, with minimal noise and only some discomfort. They pushed Wildfire in first, then clambered on top of him to hunch under the vent’s slanted top. Her bodyguard was giving Glory withering looks, but she only put a finger to her lips for him to hush.

Wordlessly, Frenzy flipped up the cover before them. Glory closed her lips tight, because they had arrived in time to see her uncle, Starscream, and Megatron standing around the desk, Updraft set on the single chair. Even standing on it as she was, the two big Seekers and their imposing leader made her look profoundly small.

They couldn’t use comms, even personal ones. Soundwave would find her out, and she wouldn’t be the only one in trouble for their little excursion. His finger to his lips, Frenzy pointed with his free hand. _Listen._

“I haven’t lied,” Updraft said.

Glory winced, and Frenzy tensed next to her. It wasn't good to start speaking before Megatron had asked you to. Especially, Glory suspected, if you shared spark energy with the Decepticon army's biggest liar and cheat.

There was a beat of silence, and Glory tried not to vent before Megatron spoke.

“My wish is only to learn as much about you as I can,” Megatron said. “Because it has been weeks, and we know very little.”

He was calm, but his voice rumbled dangerously. If Glory had ever been spoken to like that by their leader, she would have started quaking in her armour.

Updraft was clearly trying to stay calm, too. “No one asked me to talk about what happened, Lord Megatron. And I didn’t want to.”

“And why not?” he asked. The rumbling voice now held the edge of a growl.

It should have been obvious, but maybe he just wanted to hear her say it. “It hurts me. I want to start a new life.”

“You think it doesn’t hurt _me_ that I've been lied to and cheated?” Starscream snapped out. “Besides, this is hardly about Simanzi.”

“Shockwave’s physicians were not thorough,” Megatron said. “But they—and you, Updraft—gave me the impression that I was taking on a healthy femme, a future Decepticon.”

“I _am_ a future Decepticon,” Updraft said, more firmly.

Glory and Frenzy looked at one another, and they were thinking the same thing—it wouldn’t be Updraft’s health that ended her, if she spoke out of turn this much.

She suddenly had a horrible thought. Updraft _had_ lied, at least to Starscream. Starscream thought her sire was a colonist, when really he was a Vosian. Was a colonist considered too neutral, not fit to rub shoulders with their kind?

But it didn’t sound like that was what this was about. They all waited expectantly for Megatron to speak next. Glory wished hard for him to stay calm.

“Hook found significant deficiencies in how your tanks process energon,” Megatron said. “Specifically, in how your self-repair deals with cooling your frame and fixing damage. Were you aware of this?”

Updraft’s voice was very quiet. “Yes, sir.”

“Were Shockwave's doctors?”

“No, sir.”

“And how did they miss this?” Megatron asked. “A simple energon test reveals the problem.”

Updraft shifted uncomfortably. “They figured I was sick from the long stasis. There were other mechs from a recent battle to treat, and others like me, but worse off.”

“This does not explain why you omitted it from _my_ doctor, Updraft,” Megatron growled.

Glory couldn’t see Thundercracker’s face, but she hoped he would defend Updraft if it came to it. Of course, in her spark she knew there was little he could do—what Megatron said, went.

Updraft straightened her shoulders, and lifted her chin. “I am not weak. I have a challenge to get over, but I _will_ fight one day, sir. I didn’t want you to think I couldn’t.”

“You’re a _sparklet,_ ” Starscream said. “A rather scrawny one, at that. Of course you’re weak.”

“Immunodeficiencies, such as yours, are an automatic discharge from combat,” Megatron said.

Frenzy actually shivered, and Glory had a horrible feeling that an _automatic discharge_ meant something worse than a support position. On the _Nemesis_ , spies fought. Medics fought. No mech could be spared laser fire.

“You can’t be suggesting—” Thundercracker said, tensing up.

Starscream had gone stiff, shifting uncomfortably, and Glory suspected he had forgotten the implications of having a power trip.

“Perhaps, Lord Megatron, we've been too hasty,” he said quickly. “Updraft, does your illness affect your life? I’ve seen no indication of bad health from her.”

“No, carrier,” Updraft said. “I don’t get hurt, that’s all.”

”No easy task on a battlefield,” Megatron said coolly.

“I survived Simanzi,” Updraft said. Glory went still—there was an edge to her voice, a grown up one she hadn’t heard before. “ _I_ did, a little sick kid. I was saved and put in stasis, and now I’m here. There’s a reason, Lord Megatron.”

“And that reason is…?” Megatron said.

“To live,” Updraft said firmly. “And fight. The Decepticons were born from fighting adversity.”

“An awful lot of big words today, out of such a little thing,” Megatron said. His hand was on his chin now, optics bright and observing the sparklet before him. “Things have changed in our war's late stages. I cannot abide weakness.”

“Then I'll be twice as strong,” Updraft said. “You only have to wait a few years for my upgrade.”

Glory and Frenzy were both coiled like springs, enthralled by this drama unfolding before them. Glory had no doubt Rumble was somewhere as well by now, informed by Frenzy. Maybe they would bring their recordings to Soundwave? Hopefully minus any mentions of Glory, who was decidedly _not_ supposed to be there.

There were several long moments, heavy with silence. Updraft stood proudly, as regal looking as such a little frame could manage, but Glory observed like a cassette and saw her hands shaking.

Thundercracker spoke first. “She’s very intelligent,” he said, voice quiet. “You’ve seen it now, and I saw it myself during our lesson.”

“Did you?” Megatron said. His tone made it clear that Thundercracker better make his point.

“She made a point of speaking out against Functionism, and wants to read _Towards Peace_ as soon as possible,” her uncle said. “It wasn’t parroting what a good Decepticon would say, but real belief. She wants to understand the Cause.”

“Is that true?” Starscream asked Updraft. He sounded alarmed, and Glory, in that moment, was horribly torn. What would please Megatron would grate on her carrier, a push-and-pull Glory didn’t envy.

She could have sworn that the tiniest of smiles crossed Megatron’s face. Thundercracker continued boldly.

“Begging your pardon, but I think it would be a shame to write off or otherwise punish a young spark obviously invested in the Cause,” he said. “They’re rare enough, _especially_ ones this bold.”

“Too bold,” Starscream said. “We will have to _discuss_ not speaking out of turn in front of superiors.”

“You will _discuss_ it without blows,” Megatron said, surprising Glory. He solved almost everything with blows, especially Starscream-related concerns. “I was unsettled by this child's omittances, and I will not reward them. But she has significantly more chances for redemption than _you_ do, Starscream.”

Updraft had opened her mouth to speak, but caught herself just in time. Instead she stood demurely, waiting to be addressed.

“Sparklets have made you soft,” Starscream scoffed.

“No,” Megatron growled. “Only pragmatic. This young one is much closer to upgrade than Glory, so soon she’ll be of use. But there are two more things I want from you, Updraft.”

“Yes, sir.”

“How you came to survive Simanzi, as much as you can remember—and any other lies by omittance that risk putting your carrier in a fury.”

Glory felt cold in the pit of her tanks. Wildfire was tense beneath her, and Frenzy kept glancing sidelong at her, as if to make sure she was handling it okay. She wasn’t, but she wanted to look brave. Updraft had convinced Megatron, some way or another, and Glory hadn’t worked out _how_ , but Starscream…

Why had Starscream even _wanted_ her to begin with? Thundercracker said he had missed his daughter, but Glory didn’t think that was it. He seemed to hate her, treating her no better than he did Glory herself. Their lesson at week's end made her sick with dread as she sat there, watching his twitching wings and angry snarl.

“…After the first bombings, he booked passage for me off planet, but we didn’t make it that far,” Updraft was saying. Glory realized she was missing the whole story, and pulled herself out of her thoughts. “To another Decepticon-controlled world, but safer. He was going to build weapons modifications.”

“How did you come to be in stasis?” Megatron asked.

“A bomb hit the apartment,” Updraft said, like it had happened to someone else. “I guess someone found me and put me in a CR chamber.”

“Occasionally mechs are put into stasis deliberately, to be woken up at the correct time,” Megatron mused. “Your story is more plausible, but I value truth.”

_But we’re called Decepticons,_ Glory thought. _Lying can get you what you need in a war._

“Yes, sir,” Updraft said. “I only have one more thing to admit.”

“Be quick, then.”

Updraft steeled her expression. “My carrier thinks my sire was from Velocitron. He's Vosian, but changed alt modes before the war. I don’t know why he lied to Carrier, but he never did to me.”

“ _What?_ ” Starscream shrieked. “You’re a _full sparked Vosian_ and I didn’t even—"

Megatron raised his hand, and Starscream stilled, afraid of contact. He inclined his head, slowly, towards Updraft.

“I would like to be kept updated on your progress with _Towards Peace,_ ” he said. “Has Glory begun it, Thundercracker?”

“No, sir,” he said. “I thought it was too advanced, but she'll be starting when Updraft does.”

“Good,” Megatron said. “Some of our _other_ troops could do with a refresh of our Cause, if I am completely honest. Updraft, you are dismissed.”

“Thank you, sir.” Carefully, Updraft climbed down from her chair, starting for the door.

Megatron heaved a long, exhausted sigh. Glory felt like a million years of maturity separated her and Updraft, not just a few centuries of schooling. She felt like such a baby in comparison when she thought of her early days on the Decepticon base, crying for her parents and hiding wherever she could.

“Thundercracker, you are due for patrol,” Megatron said. “Dismissed—it’s clear you’re desperate to go.”

“Thank you, sir.” A little more quickly than he should have, Thundercracker went for the door was well. Maybe to check in on Updraft?

Frenzy glanced at Glory. His optics went a little brighter, and he motioned, slowly, with his head towards their exit. His expression was a whole lot softer than she was used to, and it unsettled her.

She shook her head. They had to see this through.

Megatron and Starscream were alone now, in a long silence they had probably had many times before.

“What are you playing at?” Megatron growled. He stepped closer, threatening. “You claimed fervently to me that you _wanted_ that child, before she arrived. I think what you really want is power _over_ her.”

“And you don’t want power over anyone? Oh powerful and mighty Megatron, who just spent a half hour interrogating a little girl?” Starscream never learned, but besides a Megatron shaped blind spot Glory knew he was smart too. All the more reason to avoid him. “I want her to grow up well, into a good Seeker. And to be a little wiser than to spout old protest slogans and your old populism!”

“Ha! As I recall, you did, too,” Megatron said. “It was always power you were after, but you were wronged by the Autobots, and sought to change that. So too has Updraft been wronged. In fact, she reminds me of you.”

Starscream laughed sharply. “That is rich,” he said. “She’s too honest, it only took a few minutes to crack her.”

“A younger Starscream,” Megatron said. “One that, frankly, I quite miss. Cunning, brave, and willing to fight. I intend to keep her that way, without your plans to make her your accomplice in a coup.”

“Why, to accuse _me_ of—”

“ENOUGH!” Megatron roared. “Don’t think for a second Soundwave won’t be watching you! Your next stupid plan will not involve poisoning that child's—"

Frenzy tugged her arm, and Glory knew it was time to go. She didn’t hear the rest of what Megatron said, as Frenzy hustled her and Wildfire out of their hiding place, and well away from that office.

“I, uh,” Frenzy started. He rubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck. “I don’t think that was sparklet appropriate.”

“Well,” Glory said, her voice quavering a little. “Neither is planting firecrackers in the shower heads.”

Frenzy snorted, and patted her shoulder. “Nah, that’s good clean fun. What that kid's going through ain't. I have a feeling Starscream will send her back, honestly. And Megs might let it happen, if she can’t get made into a good fighter.”

“I hope not,” Glory said. “He’s so mean, but—I like her. I want to be her friend. So I _really_ hope Starscream doesn’t hurt her.”

Frenzy grinned wickedly at her. “Don’t you worry about that,” he said. “You heard Megs, the boss is going to keep an optic on it. Which means we will be. So chin up, okay?”

“Okay,” she said doubtfully. “I’m…glad I’m not Starscream’s kid.”

“Heh. Me too,” Frenzy said. “Brave kid, though. I’ve seen grown mechs worse off facing Megatron. She'll get through it, Glory.”

Everyone kept _saying_ that, but what Glory had seen and heard said differently. If Starscream was cruel to Updraft while Glory was around, she told herself, she would stand up for her. Wildfire would take care of any problems from there.

And she resolved, also, to be brave. It looked like she would have to be.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things, finally, start to settle. Or get as close as they can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is up late! I was out pretty late last night and just crashed. Thank you so much for your comments so far, they're so appreciated!

There had been a lot of quiet days lately on base, and that had pros and cons.

Pros: Skywarp could plant a number of very funny jokes, ready and waiting for when the base got busy and he needed entertainment between shifts. Cons: this only filled so much time, and he’d rapidly get bored and antsy as he felt his chronometer tick through his downtime. It was easy enough to go above surface and fly a few laps, but Starscream had taken Thundercracker on some observation trip and left him and Swindle to keep optics on Glory. Seeing as Glory was currently revelling in being spoiled by Swindle (probably being fed unholy amounts of candy and playing board games), Skywarp didn’t have her presence to keep him occupied.

Another pro of a quiet base: an empty washrack, where he could really flare out his wings and use all the hot water.

Skywarp paused at its entrance—noise, but muffled. He frowned. The lights were off, so he had hoped it would be empty.

“Hey,” he called in. Instantly the noise stopped, and he adjusted his optics before going right for the light. There was water running, and in the rack's furthest corner a sparklet was huddled. Smaller than Glory, with bright red optics and shaking shoulders. One he didn’t know well at all, not yet.

“Updraft?” he said, more softly. “Uh…hi, kiddo. Everything okay in there?”

Her optics reset, staring in disbelief at him and his stupid question. Then another sob burst out of her, clearly involuntary, and Updraft ducked her head to hide the quieter ones that followed.

Being Glory's second uncle had clearly rubbed off on him. Instead of ducking back out as he would have once, Skywarp walked the short distance between them and slid quietly down the wall to sit, under the water. It was far too hot, and he recalled Thundercracker telling him the self-repair disorder symptoms. Inability to regulate temperature.

He let her sit for another moment before speaking. Knew better than to touch her yet, lest she bolt.

“So this is a pretty hot shower,” Skywarp said finally.

One bright red optic appeared to look at him. “Yeah.”

“Is it bothering you?” he asked gently.

Updraft shook her head, gulping once. “Dunno.”

Thundercracker had told him all about their little _meeting_ with the kid, and Skywarp had been appropriately horrified. From what he’d heard, Updraft had handled the pressure beautifully. No crying, no begging for mercy, articulate and bright. Interesting enough that Megatron had let slide an immunodeficiency, and untruth. She was much too valuable to shunt back off to the foster system, but in this moment Megatron probably would have been disgusted with her.

Skywarp recalled some pressure cookers the cassettes had once set off. Humans made fuel in them, but you could turn one of them into a little bomb with surprising ease. Fill it with something, lock it up, and wait. Sooner or later you’d have shrapnel and a mess.

“I'm just going to turn this down,” he said. His shoulder brushed hers as he did, and he felt the sting of burning hot plating. Definitely an issue with regulating heat. “And…there. A bit more comfortable, I think.”

It was colder than he’d like, but Updraft sighed and relaxed almost right away. Steam came off of her in long curls, like a sauna. One little arm wiped coolant quickly from her face, before she looked back over at Skywarp.

“Don’t tell your trine you saw me,” she said. Her voice was still thick, but Skywarp didn’t detect as much risk of a sob. “I can’t…Decepticons can’t cry.”

“Well, no,” Skywarp agreed. “But there’s no sigil on you yet. And you haven’t had it easy.”

Updraft shook her head. Apparently unconsciously, she scooted closer to Skywarp. She vented in, hard, and back out, and Skywarp listened for any sign of wheeze or reason to take her to Hook.

“Starscream,” she spit out finally, “Is the worst person I’ve ever met.”

Skywarp almost laughed out loud, and had to stifle it before she thought he was laughing at her.

“You know what?” he said. “Me too. TC and I do our best, but he hasn’t gotten any easier to deal with.”

“My sire wasn’t anything like him,” Updraft whispered, pulling her knees up closer to her chest. “Well…he was vain. Starscream’s vain, but Dad was better looking even with wheels.”

The mech who had sired Updraft had died during their long sleep on Earth, in a huge part of the war Skywarp considered limbo but had held their conflict's most significant encounters. To Updraft, though, she had last seen him only a month or so ago, and had then been shoved off onto a mech who had given her up and who had all the carriage instinct of a grenade.

“You’re talking like a real Vosian, worried about wheels,” Skywarp told her. “My sire does that sometimes, but she still joined with my carrier. Want to guess what he is?”

Updraft, staring at him, shook her head. Skywarp grinned, leaning in conspiratorially.

“A _boat,_ ” he said. As he’d hoped, her optics widened in surprise.

“A boat?” she whispered. Then she actually smiled, apparently at the thought of such an uncommon alt mode. “I’ve never _seen_ a boat.”

“I’ll show you his picture sometime,” he said. “Mom—my sire—is a Seeker, not that different from me and the trine. Soon I get to send another letter. She'll be thrilled to hear about another one of us up and coming.”

“Your parents are still alive?” she asked. Skywarp nodded.

“I'm lucky they are,” he said. “We were in a four million year stasis on this planet, you know. Kind of like you. I was sure I’d phone home and hear they'd gone grey.”

“You’re lucky,” Updraft said quietly. “Never, ever forget it.”

Skywarp finally reached out, resting one big hand on her shoulder. Updraft stiffened, but didn’t shove him off.

“I know,” he said. “I’m sorry I can’t give some of that luck to you.”

Updraft reached up to quickly wipe her optics again. She looked so serious and anguished agai, older than she was, and it was hard to see it so set on her little face.

“I knew I wouldn’t be lucky,” Updraft said. “It was either boot camp or Starscream, and I know about both.”

“Your sire talked about him?” Skywarp asked. Updraft nodded.

“He told me two things,” she said. “Well, three. The first was that I loved flying because of him. The second was that I was the only good thing he ever made.”

She vented in once, deep and shaky. Skywarp waited for her to speak again, ignoring the tugging in his spark and the urge to wrap her up in his arms.

“The third thing,” she said, “was that he dropped me off out of the blue, when I was just off my carrier bond. My dad had only seen me once before. Starscream said he was going to war, dropped me off—and did.”

“Oh,” Skywarp said, quietly. _Disappointed, but not surprised_ wasn’t an unusual feeling towards Starscream, but this time it bit harder.

Updraft’s coolant tears were flowing again, unchecked. “Apparently I was really dirty. And sick. I don’t think he knew how to take care of me. And Dad said he _thought_ he felt bad about that, but it didn’t change anything. When they said I was coming here, I knew it would be bad.”

“Updraft,” Skywarp said, more gently than how he’d probably spoken to anyone in ages. Maybe it was to cover the dark, flashing anger against that mech who he was so tied to. “Updraft, kiddo, I’m sorry. I'm sorry he’s who you have to put up with.”

“I can take care of myself now,” Updraft was saying, though the words were thick. They seemed to come out of her without her permission, and she was no longer looking at Skywarp. “So that’s okay. But he doesn’t want me because he _loves_ me or anything, he just…”

Her sobs came back out then, louder, and Skywarp said frag it. He pulled her gently into his lap and against him, her warm little frame shuddering against his cockpit as they sat in that cool shower. He didn’t have long to wait, but until then her sobs were harsh and angry, all the mourning she hadn’t felt safe enough to do.

When she finally lifted her head, she looked at him, embarrassed. “Sorry,” she said, very quietly. “I’ve been trying not to cry.”

“You’re gonna be a good Decepticon,” Skywarp told her. He tipped her chin up, so he could look into her optics. A lot like Starscream’s, go figure. “You’re real brave, and everyone’s telling you how smart you are. But you had to get it out, and there’s no shame in that.”

Updraft nodded. “I think…I think I can be okay now,” she said. “I’ve been trying to forget my sire, but it helps to remember.”

Skywarp nodded. “You can never forget sacrifice like that,” he said, surprised at how serious he sounded. “If you think you can—you can talk a bit about him. I'll finally warm up this shower, and I’ll tell you a bit about my parents too.”

He’d mentioned his carrier and sire once or twice to Thundercracker, and spoken to them once since arriving—but about his early life, Skywarp was intensely private. Sentimentality only got you trouble in this army, and not everyone had been sparked by parents. Now, though, the time seemed right, and he took down the soap and solvents for Updraft to use.

“We had a mod shop,” Updraft told him as she scrubbed. “I’d just clean and sort stuff after school, but Dad would give me a little money for it. He was happy, the war meant good business.”

“His name was Knock Out, right?” Skywarp said. Updraft smiled.

“Yeah,” she said. “He said it was because he was one.”

Updraft was thorough and meticulous in cleaning, like any good Seeker. Skywarp watched her delicately polishing components and realized how horrible she must have felt, rusted and looking awful when she first arrived. Maybe he and TC could put in an acquisition request for a better polish. Hell, Starscream might even approve of her own proper kit. Skywarp told her a story about the time he set off fifty firecrackers in his room, and his carrier tried to help him hide the evidence from his sire.

“I still remember Mom's face when she came home,” Skywarp said, grinning at the memory. “Dad and I halfway through scraping burn marks off the wall, and him looking up and going 'Stormrunner, my love, the little bit and I have been redecorating. Surprise!' She was _so_ mad.”

Updraft was actually giggling, to his delight. She looked her age, and cheerful, when her expression was so bright. “He called you little bit?” she asked.

“Still does,” Skywarp said. “That’s how he addresses his letters. 'Afternoon, little bit!'”

Updraft smiled, more sadly. “Dad called me sweet spot. When I was mad, he said I had sharp edges, and I didn’t like _that_ as much _._ ”

“Sharp edges are good sometimes,” Skywarp told her. “ _Especially_ around here. Good when people try to mess with you.”

To cap it all off, Skywarp showed Updraft that there was a setting for bubbles in this washrack, one not typically used but Glory’s absolute favourite. Updraft’s grin was radiant, even over such a simple thing, and it didn’t even matter that Skywarp let too many out and they had to rinse off again.

He walked her to evening energon when they were dry, finding Glory sitting with Swindle and chatting a mile a minute. The whole table (which was currently just Blast Off, expertly ignoring Glory, Swindle, and Glory herself) looked up in surprise to see Updraft looking cheerful, not simply darting in to grab her energon and back out again.

Glory, predictably, lit right up. “Hi, Updraft! You look nice.”

Skywarp tapped Glory’s helm so she’d giggle, right in the ticklish spot. “It turns out her sire ran a mod shop back home. Might get her to teach me some tricks.”

Too late he realized he was spilling other people’s secrets (something he tried not to do to people he genuinely liked). Updraft was still smiling, though, and didn’t seem altogether affected.

“I know how to do a double coat,” Updraft said. “It would really make you shine, Glory.”

“Cool!” Glory said, leaning forward. “You have to show me. Uncle T thinks I’m too young.”

“You’re never too young to look your best,” Updraft said. “My sire told me that.”

Swindle had leaned back, optics bright with interest as they rested on the sparklets. “Who was your sire, Updraft? I used to do dealings with mod shops. Tons of them.”

“Before you went to prison?” Glory asked sweetly.

Skywarp stifled his snort, and behind them Blast Off's shoulders were shaking. Sparklets, even stuck-up jerks could admit, were _funny._

“Knock Out,” Updraft said, a note of pride in her voice. Swindle clapped his hands, optics lighting up.

“One of my favourite customers!” he said, visibly delighted. Apparently being reminded he was put in spark-prison a millennia didn’t bother him. “A good friend, actually. Lots of good gossip over his mod table in Rodion. I never knew he had a sparklet.”

“Because you were in prison,” Skywarp said, grinning. That fact didn’t seem to bother Updraft, either, who was staring at Swindle.

“You knew my sire?” she said. “Can you tell me about him sometime?”

Swindle grinned, and it was the expression he usually reserved for Glory—so, incredibly not slimy. “Of course! In fact, I heard you’ll be joining me and Glory for lessons on Wednesdays. I'm sure I’ll have time to chat about him then.”

Skywarp ended up sitting at the Combaticon’s table, and managed to get Blast Off to stalk out in disgust when he showed the girls how to blow proper bubbles in their energon. He was on a roll here, after all. When they were through, the base was still mostly empty, and he walked out for the downshift with one little hand in each of his. It didn’t matter to him any more if people thought he was soft, or a nursemaid to sparklets. Going a little soft in the spark over two future Seekers certainly didn’t affect him on the battlefield. Just one more thing to keep safe. And thanks to Glory, he’d already known he loved pretending he was an uncle. What was one more niece?

* * *

 

Updraft woke up, and felt…different.

It took her a moment to realize that _different_ meant _rested,_ and that she hadn’t tossed and turned all night in light recharge, shivering from bad dreams she couldn’t recall. Then she felt a little silly, because it had been three whole days of feeling rested and she still wasn’t used to it.

Her spark ached when she thought of her small room back home, and Knock Out always up early, getting his shop ready for the day. It hurt every day, when she thought of him, and remembered he was in the Well and somehow she was still here

But today the hurt seemed less. Still there, but peripheral. Talking about things helped, he’d always said. He had claimed half the reason he was so beautiful was that he made sure to point it out. Most likely to make her laugh, but the sentiment rang true. She had talked to Skywarp about it all, and he hadn’t scolded her for not being brave. Someone on this base had _known_ Knock Out, and Glory liked him, which meant Updraft would get to see more of the mech.

Starscream wasn’t in his room (she'd knocked, and no one had told her to go away) so she folded her thermoblanket and subspaced her datapad for that day. Her lessons had been pushed back a week after she’d had to talk to Megatron, but she wished they hadn’t been. It was the best distraction she had.

Morning energon was busy that day, and she preferred it quiet, but Glory had saved her a place. So she sat next to her, across from a grinning Skywarp.

“Stay out of trouble,” Thundercracker called after them, when it was time to go. “It took me half an hour to convince Hook to teach two of you.”

Immediately, Updraft was worried—it was clear most of the base were still wary of Starscream’s strange child. Glory must have seen the look on her face, and just grinned.

“Hook is fine,” she said. “Mixmaster is the crazy one, but I don’t think _your_ parents gave you weird magnetic paint. He won’t bother you.”

If it were up to Updraft, she’d have the whole combiner team repainted to anything but that green and purple. It wasn’t, though, and she was smarter than to say anything about it when they arrived. She didn't like the medbay, or the adjoining workshop. Dark and rather cold, so unlike her sire's stylish shop.

Glory was right about Hook, though. He grumbled when they arrived, something about not being paid enough for this slag, but Updraft simply followed Glory's lead and sat herself on the exam table. When Hook turned back and found Updraft sitting quietly, not swinging her legs and with her datapad already out (unlike Glory, who was both swinging legs and leaning over to see what another of the bots here was doing), he nodded, once.

“I heard you’re the academic type,” Hook said. “And that you even know a little about repairs?”

“Not quite, sir,” Updraft said. “I know about cosmetics and mods, a bit. Nothing medical.”

“Just Hook when you’re in here,” he said. “Only my team calls me sir. Weapons knowledge?”

“No, sir—Hook.”

“Well, that’s to be expected,” Hook said. He wasn’t looking up from his work, but if he led a combiner team as well as ran the medical bay, he was probably smart enough to pay attention to two things at once. “You’re close to upgrade, but not that close. Still, knowing how to build a good blaster in a pinch is a useful skill to have.”

Glory's optics sparkled. “Then how come you haven’t shown _me?_ ”

“Because you and those cassettes would build ten!” one of the other Constructicons called from the back room. “And they’d shoot glitter glue or something worse!”

“Shut up, Scavenger,” Hook snapped. Updraft smiled, because he’d been too late--Glory's optics were already bright with delight and ideas. “Anyway, you two aren’t going anywhere near weapons today. I need to build a number of parts for the next crop of idiot injuries, so you can help me—”

Updraft had thought a base alarm would be louder, and flash more. Still, it was enough to surprise her and for the Constructicons to pause what they were doing.

“Oh, for _spark's_ sake,” Hook snapped, glancing up at the two of them. “It had to be while I'm _babysitting_ , didn’t it? Scrapper, lock the door.”

The Constructicon nearest, however, hadn’t moved. “Sir, we need to stay open,” he said. “For injured? Also, it’s probably false.”

Updraft glanced at Glory, to see how she should react, but she only looked confused. When she saw Updraft looking, she shrugged.

“The last two were false,” she said. “The one before that was the giant squid stuck in the airlock.”

“Even if it’s _false,”_ Hook said impatiently, “I’m currently responsible for the welfare of these sparklets. Which means we’re locking up.” He tilted his head as he did so, and paused. Taking a comm, Updraft realized. “It’s protocol, and besides, this isn’t false.”

“Not false?” Glory said in surprise. “Another Earth animal?”

Even with a full mask and visor, Hook looked grim. “No, Glory. Intruder alert. Autobot.”

A week ago, Updraft probably still would have been scared out of her wits. Today?

Well, still scared. But not terrified. Actually, she was surprised to find that things had just gotten really interesting.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The threat is neutralized. The Autobots discuss the Decepticon's newest surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is up early so people can catch it before the Christmas busyness swings into high gear! Thanks so much for reading, and I hope everyone is having a festive and lovely holiday season. Your comments are the greatest gift of all <3

Of course it would happen on Hook's watch.

A lockdown was nothing new—despite Soundwave's best efforts, the enemy occasionally sent in probes, or a Decepticon idiot or two did something foolish enough to warrant a sweep of the base. (The airlock waterfalls, for example. Hook had hated that day.)

Now an Autobot was _aboard_ their ship somewhere, and he just had to be locked in here with five idiots and two little femmes. Granted, there was worse company than Glory, and Updraft seemed articulate enough from what he'd seen, but it was hard enough to get things done without entertaining sparklets.

Wildfire paced by the door, hooves clicking on his floor. Occasionally the mech would toss his head, snorting anxiously, and Hook couldn't decide if the stupid lug was trying to help protect his charge, or wanted to get out and neutralize the threat pre-emptively.

“The rest of you, back to work,” he barked. “We're stuck here, and noticeably lacking in patients. Ample time to sort parts and revise those blueprints for Lord Megatron.”

There was a collective groan from his gestalt, which he ignored. He glanced at the sparklets next, Glory leaning eagerly towards the door and Updraft was sitting up straighter,optics bright.

“Glory, Updraft, we'll pick up where we left off,” Hook said briskly. “Knowing how to build simple joints and replacement lines is a vital skill as a field medic. Frankly, even if you're not it's good to know. I have blueprints here.”

Glory looked put out, of course. Not only was there an exciting security risk, but she wasn't going to get to do anything _exciting_ during it. Updraft watched him lay out the blueprints, and as he put out the box of spare pieces and scrap metal for them. She was quiet now, sure, but she was still Starscream's spawn. She probably just hadn't had time to make herself comfortable.

He gave her a knowing look, so she'd know he wasn't one to be crossed. “The report I was forwarded says you're very bright,” he said. “I'm sure you know I expect good work.”

Glory had already opened the parts box, but she was shifting them around aimlessly. No doubt she was more interested in whatever calamity would occur outside.

“Yes, Hook,” was all Updraft said, reaching into the box. “I guess we're safe in here, while this happens?”

“Of course,” Glory said cheerfully. She reached for the smaller welder (Long Haul had put tape on the tools that were Glory-safe), to do something Hook imagined would not end up an elbow joint. “Even _if_ an Autobot got in here, we've got Wildfire, and the Constructicons form Devastator. He's _way_ dangerous.”

Hook huffed, but he wasn't displeased by that. “He wouldn't do us much good,” he said. “Ceiling's too high.”

“Hook would knock our head off,” Scrapper said cheerfully. “And the rest of us would be crouching.”

“Shut up.”

“Ive never seen a combiner,” Updraft said. She was poring over the fuel line print, something harder than it looked to get right. “I've heard they're hard to control.”

“If you're not equipped to handle it,” Hook said. There was faint noise outside the door, but he didn't glance up. Better to have the sparklets calm and bored. “ _We_ are, fortunately.”

“Better equipped than Hook is to teach you,” Long Haul said. “Thank Primus it's not biology day again.”

The rest of his team snickered, and Hook let his anger smoulder. This was probably a new record time for them to get antsy in. The door had only been shut five minutes, for spark's sake.

Updraft raised a brow. “Biology?”

More snickers, and Hook growled. The rest of his team shut up, and Updraft straightened—and Glory continued fiddling with metal, one optic on the door. Wildfire's hooves clicked anxiously.

“Yes,” Hook said finally. “And we're not having it again, so hopefully your schooling covered it.”

Glory giggled. “He's still mad he had to talk about interface,” she said. “He complained about it to Uncle T.”

More snickering, and Hook about snarled, turning away before anyone could see he was embarrassed. “Oh, I _am_ mad,” he snapped. “It's his job to tell you about—sparks. You ask too many questions in here.”

“But maybe ask him again, new kid,” Long Haul said, shoulders still shaking. “Just so we see him pop.”

Hook finally turned around, and Glory quickly hid her mouth behind her hand. For her part, Updraft was looking fairly unruffled. She probably didn't even realize that the way she cocked her head, looking at him with her chin tilted up, was remarkably Starscream in nature.

“I know about _that,_ ” she said. “Obviously.” Long Haul shrugged, looking unconvinced.

“ _Starscream_ sure didn't tell you about the laser birds and the cyber bees,” he said, and Updraft actually rolled her optics.

“I've never heard that expression,” she said. Internally, Hook sighed. Thundercracker might have sung the femme's praises, but he should have guessed she'd still have a bratty streak. “Of course he didn't, my sire did—wait. Look there, did you see that?”

Hook glanced to the corner her little finger was pointed at, but saw nothing. Right away Glory's optics were wide with interest, and she scrambled up to Updraft, peeking over her head.

“See what?”

“A...a glimmer? Like when it's hot out,” Updraft said. Her optics had narrowed, leaning forward. Hook was about to tell them to get back to it when Wildfire snarled, and tensed by the door.

Then Hook saw it too. Almost unnoticeable, but if pointed out a trained optic knew cloaking when he saw it. Glory's optics went wide, but Hook spoke before her mouth opened.

“Girls,” he said, very calmly. “Get down from the table and into the back corner. Near Scrapper.”

Glory had known him long enough to know when to hop to it. At least, he thought she had. She whispered something to Updraft instead, who nodded. When they slid off the table, it wasn't on Scrapper's side, and they didn't go where Hook had asked them to.

Instead, the two little brats shared a glance, then Glory threw her metal scrap. It didn't bounce off the wall, or the counter, but the air, which shimmered again. The spot made a noise, and Wildfire lunged.

* * *

 

“So,” Mirage said, wincing as Ratchet flicked the welder's switch on. “There you have it.”

“Outstanding,” Cliffjumper called from the back berth. “You've really, truly outdone yourself today, Mirage.”

“Shut up,” Ratchet said, “or I'll need another temperature reading.”

It was an impromptu debriefing, and rather unsecure, but Mirage had insisted his information was immediate and pertinent. Ratchet had insisted that repairs were equally pertinent, and that was how the rest of the base's officers ended up in a rough semicircle around their rescued spy's berth, while injured soldiers watched with interest from their own places.

And if what Mirage was telling them was true, and not some trick of holograms or a hallucination, it was fascinating information indeed.

Prowl was frowning, hard, but his interest was clear, optics bright with the possibilities and outcomes of this new situation. Jazz and Ironhide were scowling, and Ratchet knew well why. Ironhide was still hurting from being forbidden from “rescuing” Glory some years back, and Jazz was always antsy when a spec ops mech came in hurt. Mirage had been lucky, captive only an hour or so before his great escape, but Ratchet had doubts about how easily he'd get rid of Jazz. And Optimus, standing in the middle, had his hand on his chin, looking very thoughtful. Only Red Alert, on duty, was not present, and Ratchet decided he'd have to be thankful for small graces

"Prime," Ironhide said. "We can't allow this. You _know_ we can't."

Optimus turned to him, and narrowed his optics in warning. "We have not yet received all the details," he said. "When we do, I will make my decisions." He regarded Mirage again curiously. "You're absolutely certain the sparklet was, ah, real, Mirage? Not a projection, perhaps long-distance? A holographic droid?"

Mirage scowled, rubbing the back of his helm. "I know a sparklet when I see one. She was real, alright. And if she was a holovid for Glory, they wouldn't have been speaking with her."

"But it's _ridiculous,_ " Jazz said. "I mean, they have enough trouble with the one, right? I doubt Megs would agree to another."

"Well, she's a high officer's child," Mirage said. "Starscream."

Silence.

Mirage had told them about his journey, getting trapped, getting _found,_ and how he had escaped the brig through use of a loose vent (possibly, he guessed, from sparklet exploits). He'd been pursued, however, and it had only been Jazz's quick action that returned their teammate mostly unscathed. He had gotten some information about Megatron's new Disintegrator, but the real prize had been his discovery of this second little femme.

"That's impossible," Jazz said. He had a look in his optics Ratchet didn't like.

Optimus was almost hiding amusement, but he had long ago perfected his more solemn loom. "Mirage here has stated this as truth. What makes you believe this, Jazz?"

"Because," Jazz said, faceplate cracking in a grin. "That implies anyone would reproduce with Starscream. Prowl, what are the likely stats on it?"

The troops being treated had broken out in snickers (and even Ratchet had to work hard to hide his expression), but Prowl was staring at him, long suffering.

"I'm not going to dignify that with a number," he said. "But...low."

"But possible," Optimus said. His voice held an edge, and the Autobots immediately cut off their laughter. Excepting Jazz, of course, whose grin was unrepentant and who was clearly pleased about fitting in the barb. "Are you certain of this, Mirage? It _is_ more likely that officers would be receiving keys to Vector Sigma."

"You don't _need_ one," Ratchet said. "But no one sanctions carriage without a key."

"Forgotten by Primus, they're called," Ironhide said. "Poor little bits."

"But not by a _Prime,_ " Optimus said firmly. "Mirage, please continue. And _any_ soldiers deemed well enough to walk out, please wait _outside_ the medical bay. Ratchet will finish with you later."

There was a grumbling as the interested troops filed out, and of _course_ the one left was Cliffjumper, still leaning forward eagerly. Mirage straightened up, looking thoughtful.

"Well, sir, they were cracking jokes," he said. "About _biology lessons_ or somesuch—frankly inappropriate for sparklets—and one of the Constructicons stated Starscream wouldn't have told her such things. I discerned from that her parentage."

"Carrier?" Optimus asked. "Sire? Did you find out the other parent's identity?"

Mirage shook his head. "Carrier, but I didn't catch her sire's name. They caught me after that."

"This is gonna be the best part," Cliffjumper whispered from his berth, optics bright with glee. For Ratchet's own sanity, he chose to ignore him, and so did the rest of the officers.

"She must be quite young," Optimus said. "Starscream has been on Earth since we awoke, and a pre-war child would long be upgraded..."

"That's the thing, sir," Mirage said. "I was a sparklet myself, you know, not forged. And I had a number of siblings whom I watched grow up. Developmentally, she's older than Glory. Close, in fact, to the point where upgrade is not many decades off."

"Especially in such a trying time," Prowl said, brows furrowed. "Especially when soldiers are so needed."

"It doesn't make sense, though," Ironhide said. "How was she born? Somethin's off. And even if it's _not,_ it's _still_ off that _Starscream_ is raisin' some poor kid!"

"Something is off," Prowl said, sighing. "And, I agree. Thundercracker might be attentive, but Starscream..."

Ironhide scowled, and they all knew why. Attentive or not, Thundercracker was still a Decepticon, and Ironhide had firmly believed she belonged away from them.

"We will cross that bridge than we come to it," Optimus said. "There is clearly something more going on, and I will consult some records. Older ones."

"What's she look like?" Jazz asked. "Red optics? Blue? Size?"

"Hardly pertinent--" Prowl started, but Optimus raised his hand. He tilted his head towards Mirage, who nodded, and sent out a comm to the officers present.

It was an image file, a capture he must have taken while stuck in the Decepticon medical bay. Glory, Ratchet knew well. He had repaired her once, after all, and little had changed in the years since. She was smiling, michievous, and her lower half was obscured by Wildfire approaching from the front. Beside them was a smaller sparklet, polished quite shiny with mostly red plating and a dark face and hands. Red, pretty optics were narrowed in concentration, and one little hand was pointing at Mirage.

Jazz, of course, grinned. "Tiny little thing. You sure she's older?"

"You have the same sparklet frame all your childhood," Mirage said. "Yes, I'm quite certain. She speaks well."

"She _looks_ like Starscream," Ratchet said. "You can't build that in, the spark does it. But of course, it could be coincidental."

"That ain't no coincidence," Ironhide snapped. He looked at their Prime, pleading, and Optimus went rigid.

"Hey!" Cliffjumper called. "I want to see!"

"Did you say, 'I need a temperature reading?'" Ratchet snapped, so the minibot would shrink back and shut up. "I have to admit, sir, it's disturbing to imagine Starscream parenting anyone. But the sparklet looks well cared for, fueled..."

"...And like she gets along with Glory," Optimus mused. "So they discovered you, Mirage?"

He wasn't making fun of him, only asking a question, but Cliffjumper still covered his face to hide his laughter. Mirage shrank down a little on the berth.

"I'm not a betting mech, but those femmes will be Seekers," he said glumly. "They have good flying optics if they can see the disguise edges. Yes, they saw me. Glory threw some scrap, it bounced off--"

"--and you got up close and personal with Wildfire," Jazz said. He was grinning, the brat, but Ratchet could hardly blame him.

"That thing's a menace," Ironhide snapped. "That they'd let those little sparklets near it--"

"Enough, Ironhide," Optimus said firmly. "Did you feel they were in any danger among the Constructicons, Mirage? They don't appear frightened."

Mirage sighed. "Hook asked them to go to the far corner of the room when he saw me, I assume for their protection," he said. "If there had been more of an altercation, I would have led it away from them, of course. They ignored Hook, and set their guard on me instead."

"Made into soldiers," Ironhide growled, his fists clenched.

"It sounds more to me," Prowl said calmly, "like childhood curiosity. They were asked to make themselves safer, but instead tried to learn more about the situation."

"They look pretty pleased," Jazz said, grinning. "And honestly? Agree with Prowler. Glory's a handful, and the new one has a smile cracked there too."

"These are not child soldiers, Ironhide," Optimus said firmly. "Just curious sparklets, in the wrong place at the wrong time. They're obviously well protected, and cared for—though they may need a refresher course in safety around the enemy."

"I would _never_ hurt them!" Mirage protested. Behind them, Cliffjumper snickered.

"Nah, you'd just get your aft kicked by _two little girls,_ " he hooted.

Ratchet lost his patience then, and there was only a second between his flinging the wrench and the _"ow!"_ it generated from Cliffjumper. Optimus sighed, and now he was the one giving long-suffering looks.

"When Ratchet's deemed you repaired, I'd like a full report of what you saw, and any conversation recorded," Optimus said. "You have gained us valuable information, and we're glad to have you home alive."

Mirage relaxed. "Thank you, sir."

"Only one more thing for now, then," Optimus said. "The child's name. Did you happen to catch it?"

"Yes, sir," Mirage said. "Updraft."

"A Seeker name, alright," Jazz said.

"Updraft," Optimus said, musing on it. "Thank you, Mirage. I will set her down as such. And for now—I hope you're listening, Ironhide—the base will not be interfered with further. The Disintegrator appears unfinished, and we risk harming the sparklets if further infiltrations are conducted."

"But if we know where it _is—_ " Ironhide started, even as Optimus gave him a withering look.

"The _Nemesis_ has had working thrusters again for years," he said. "They've likely already moved. We will _not_ interfere, and I will look into Updraft's origin myself. Is that clear?"

There was too long a beat of silence before Ironhide said, "Yes, sir."

"Good. Dismissed."

Ratchet paused in Mirage's repairs only long enough to give Cliffjumper a recharge aid. He refused to admit it was for anything more than that, and _certainly_ not to shut him up. The rest of the work was done in relative peace, because he and Mirage were both thinking about what he had seen.

"I'll put all this in my report," Mirage said quietly, when they were sure Cliffjumper was asleep. "But it's more than Seeker optics that can catch on to my disguise."

"I know," Ratchet murmured. "They're bright, no doubt. You can see it in their optics...and I saw Glory for myself."

"Of course. But I wonder how bright Starscream's offspring truly is," Mirage said. "The mech's a tactical genius, if...misguided and uncouth, in every other sense. Her education is likely rigorous."

"Well, with any luck, the war will be over before we find out how smart she can be," Ratchet said. "Now, get some rest. That's an order."

Glory was very young, not at an age where her fighting ability could be discerned. But a good spy could see more than the superficial, and Ratchet was willing to believe what Mirage thought about this Updraft. He hoped she would be able to live out her childhood without an early upgrade, at least. He'd hate to face her in the field, when he knew that at this moment she was just a little thing, befriending a peer and being curious.

Poor little bit. There wasn't much more unlucky than having Starscream in your spark.

* * *

 

If Updraft was going to be a Decepticon, what had followed after discovering Mirage had to have counted as firsthand experience. Wildfire had managed to gouge him, and produce a number of undignified sounding yelps before Mirage tried to break down the door. Of course, he was no match for six Constructicons, and they'd gotten firsthand experience of seeing an Autobot subdued.

He had escaped, and now Updraft had her first experience of being magnetized as the _Nemesis_ moved slowly along in the ocean, but despite it...Megatron didn't seem displeased.

"And they saw the signs of a disguise for themselves?" their leader was asking Hook, not without interest. "I am surprised such young bot's optics would be so calibrated."

Glory stood peeking out from behind Thundercracker, one hand on Wildfire's head. When she saw Updraft looking she grinned wide, clearly pleased with herself. Starscream wasn't looking down at her, watching Megatron with a mix of interest and...snarling. Her carrier's expressions were often difficult to work out.

"Well, my lord, Updraft is a little older, and newly re-plated," Hook said. "I recalibrated all senses, but—"

"—Even then, they should hardly detect the Autobot Mirage," Megatron finished. He looked at Updraft, then Glory, and they both straightened eagerly to attention. "Whether it's observance or dumb luck...well done. Mirage could have harvested far more information without your quick work."

Thundercracker almost smiled, and Skywarp winked at Updraft. Glory ruffled up in pleasure, chirping out a "Thank you, sir!" of her own before Starscream spoke up.

"But he did harvest information," he said, pointing at Updraft. "They know about _her._ "

Megatron frowned, but after a moment waved his hand. "They would have found out when we took her to observe battle, Starscream. It's certainly not ideal, but Updraft has proven fairly capable."

If _fairly capable_ was the best she was going to get, Updraft would take it. She looked up to meet Starscream's optics, and wished she could read their expression better. Knock Out might have been a vain gossip, sassing his regulars and grousing about paint scratches, but he'd always had warmth for his sparklet.

Also, no one had said anything about observing battles. She would have to ask Glory the next time they were together, but hazarded a guess that Wildfire had something to do with defenses.

"My main concern is the backtracking, again, of this sparklet's training," Megatron said. " _Ideally,_ we will have no further incidents and her lesson plan will continue in peace. Soundwave?"

"Security: Upgraded," Soundwave said, in his unsettling monotone. "Cassettes: on extra shifts."

"Good," Megatron said briskly. Frenzy and Rumbler's faces said everything they needed to about _that,_ but Updraft was relieved. They'd been lucky that time, but it didn't mean she liked the enemy in spaces that should have been _theirs._ "Starscream, you have still not submitted your lesson plan for the sparklets. And one more thing—"

Her carrier sighed, rolling his optics and cocking his helm. " _Yes,_ Lord Megatron?"

"Thundercracker or Skywarp will be observing each lesson with them," Megatron said. Starscream sputtered, but instantly Glory sagged with relief. She hated Updraft's carrier, Starscream hated her back, and Updraft had found that she could hardly blame Glory for it. "They have asked permission to do this, and I have granted it."

"What do you think I'd do, hurt them?" Starscream sputtered. "I _asked_ to bring my daughter here! And that demon beast guarding Glory won't let anyone near her!"

"Simply put, no one trusts you yet," Thundercracker said. "Even if you wouldn't harm them physically, I won't see my niece—or your daughter—treated rudely. Besides," he added, a glint in his optics. "Skywarp could always use a flight refresher."

Skywarp sputtered, but Glory stifled a giggle. Even Updraft smiled.

"Fine," Starscream snapped, glowering briefly down at Updraft. "Their lessons in true Vosian pursuits have been delayed, anyway. Friday morning, then. Now come, child. I am exhausted by this."

"You are not dismissed," Megatron growled. Updraft rooted herself to the spot, even as Starscream started off, her carrier shooting what he must have thought was a betrayed look. Their leader watched silently after him, before turning to Updraft.

"Your lessons have been upturned, but you've clearly met the challenges," Megatron said to her. "You are dismissed. Try not to antagonize your carrier, so I don't have to deal with him. Again."

Updraft nodded, briefly meeting Thundercracker's sympathetic look. Glory shot her a last smile, and she finally turned and left, trying not to walk too quickly and potetially catch up with her carrier.

He was in his room when she got there, so she simply went through the next door into hers. Unless Megatron had called on them, such as that evening, or (she assumed) during a lesson, Starscream had little to do with her. He clearly _didn't_ want his offspring, but balked and protested at the thought of anyone taking her off his hands. She found it hard to believe he had _asked_ to take her on, either. A foundling home would probably not be much different, except that her adult frame would probably already be in the pipeline.

Pain, missing Knock Out, rumbled up in her spark, and she let it wash over her. A few private tears here and there were much better than another sobbing fit, with the potential for someone less understanding than Skywarp to come upon her. Megatron would hardly be so...tolerant (yes, that was the word) if she was caught getting sick, or showing weakness. Glory was so lucky, comfortable and loved by many of the soldiers as she was. And healthy, not worried about an end to any remission. She'd come to the _Nemesis_ too young to worry about what other people would think of her, _and_ she didn't have to lug around all the baggage of a treacherous carrier.

But it was a relief to have a friend. A trusting one, who was happy to show Updraft the ropes and tell her how to behave around whom. The only one Glory couldn't help with was Starscream, something she could hardly be blamed for.

Updraft curled up in her berth, starting a film on one of her datapads. Some human thing Skywarp had packaged for her, about a human princess who read books and got kidnapped by a monster. Silly, but nice. Cybertron didn't have fiction like this.

She wondered, idly, if she could just go live with Thundercracker instead. Or Skywarp, if one sparklet was enough for him already. Starscream would pitch a fit, but at least she knew what to make of those mechs. She wouldn't live in fear of wheezing one day, or her carrier's temper, or of Megatron changing his mind.

The _Nemesis_ finally ground, slowly, to a stop. Their new _hiding place,_ if you could call it that. Updraft sighed, and tried to watch her movie.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flying lessons begin. Things are better than expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a little late! I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday and that your new year is better than the last. Thank you so much to all who are reading and leaving comments!

The first unusual thing on Starscream’s lesson day: her carrier, waiting at her door when she came out in the morning.

“Am I late?” Updraft asked cautiously. Her spark rolled in dread at the implication, but Starscream only shook his head.

“No,” he said. He was staring down at her like he wasn’t any more sure about how this would go than she was. “You are not. I'm only walking with you to our energon today.”

Since she’d arrived, Starscream had mostly taken his fuel in his room. Today they walked together to the mess area, several of Updraft’s strides needed to keep up with Starscream’s one. His trine and Glory were already there, watching her carrier with all the wariness she’d come to expect. At least she could take the seat next to another other sparklet, and exchange grins as Starscream collected their cubes.

It wasn’t good energon—natural gas. But Skywarp got her and Glory each a second cube, and despite fulfilling their rations with one he met Starscream’s raised brow steadily.

“They’re flying today,” he said. “I’ll deal with Soundwave if he rides my aft about the missing ration, but they need good energy for antigravs.”

Thundercracker’s brow furrowed, but Updraft guessed this wasn’t the first time they’d snuck extra for Glory. For an empire that was supposed to be so great, the quality of energon aboard the _Nemesis_ was often thin and weak.

Despite sneaking extra energon, despite her carrier, the thought of _really_ flying made Updraft thrill right down to her spark.

Her carrier watched Glory with a long, hard look, enough that Glory almost inched closer to Thundercracker. Updraft was glad she didn’t when Starscream spoke.

“How regularly have you flown, Glory?” he asked her. He probably _thought_ he sounded calm and engaging, from the smooth expression on his face, but calm from Starscream was still alarming.

“Technically I use my antigravs a lot,” Glory said. “But mostly inside. Uncle T doesn’t have much time to take me.

“Uncle T,” Starscream said, just mocking enough. “Well, my entire morning is now dedicated to you both, so there will be plenty of time for flying today. First, a written test.”

“A test?” Glory and Skywarp said at the same time. Thundercracker raised a brow.

“You haven’t taught them anything,” he said. “What will you test them on?”

Starscream waved his hand. “I won’t _count_ it, idiot,” he said. “It’s to see where their educations are at. Updraft in particular, because her records are lost.”

Now Glory looked really nervous. Updraft opened her private comm, something she rarely did here, and sent her a short-range message.

_Don’t worry. It will probably be too hard and not make sense, so just do your best._

The look Glory gave her was still not entirely promising, but they could only try to satisfy Starscream. If he was cruel to them over their performance, Thundercracker would defend them.

And Updraft did not want to be talked down to again.

Skywarp had to patrol, but Thundercracker accompanied them back to Starscream’s room. Wildfire looked daggers at her carrier the entire trip, but Thundercracker had positioned himself between Starscream and everyone else likely deliberately. Updraft was grateful for that extra half-cube—she needed all the help she could get today.

“It’s not long,” Starscream said, handing out two small datapads. He almost looked awkward, and Updraft savoured it. “We don’t have time to waste, of course. I _will_ check spelling.”

It _was_ hard, and the sections were rather sporadic and not well organized, but besides the chemistry portion Updraft thought she did well. She remembered that Starscream had been a scientist before the war, and that he must have been bright to cover concepts like this. She finished first, and watched Glory frowning in concentration as she scribbled down her last answers.

Thundercracker had been watching them as they worked, over their shoulders. Updraft didn’t turn to look at him until she had handed her datapad over, and he was frowning, his chin in one hand.

“The flight section is remarkably on the nose,” he said. “For two bots their age, anyway. But the science…”

“Well,” Starscream said, smirking. “We’ll see how they did, shall we?”

“Don’t worry, girls,” Thundercracker said, knowing full well it would undermine Starscream. “I couldn’t tell you half the stuff in that part. You did your best.”

He probably shouldn’t have said it, as Starscream’s mouth curled into a scowl, but Updraft felt a bit warmer anyway. It probably relieved Glory a bit, too, sitting next to Updraft far too stiff and anxious as she was. She didn’t like seeing her lively, bright new friend scared, but she could hardly blame her for Starscream being the cause.

A good teacher would have gone through the answers with them, elaborating on good answers and correcting wrong ones. Updraft had come in with no expectations, and she found herself unsurprised when Starscream read their datapads in silence, glancing between each and frowning in concentration.

He shook his head as he shut them off. “You answered the flight questions _passably,_ Glory,” Starscream said. “Expected when your uncle is part of my trine. Updraft, considering a roller raised you, I'll say your work is acceptable, too. The _chemistry,_ though…shameful. Same with the alloy properties.”

Updraft found herself hurt, though she’d prepared herself not to be. Her teachers back in Rodion had praised her for her skills, and she had never brought home a bad mark. Trust her carrier to give Updraft her first.

Glory looked put out too, but already her optics burned with purpose. If _prove Starscream wrong_ lit a fire in her thrusters, Updraft was willing to try and keep up.

Starscream clapped his hands together abruptly, and from the smirk on his face he was pleased when they both jumped.

“Sir,” Thundercracker said. Starscream ignored him.

“Well, we'll see if you’re better at flying than taking tests,” Starscream said. He stood up, wings held high, and with a start Updraft realized he almost looked _pleased._ Not pleased because they’d done poorly on his test, which she would have expected, but something more genuine.

Somehow, it was less reassuring than his bad temper.

“I would prefer if they could start on wings,” Starscream said to Thundercracker, as they strode down the hall.

“It’s better, but they’re not ready,” Thundercracker said. “There’s plenty they can learn in those frames. Balance, speed control…”

“Yes,” Starscream said, sighing. “And they’ll learn from no one better than me.”

It wasn’t until the airlock that Updraft remembered they would have to dive up through that dark water, out onto her antigravs. Her _own_ antigravs, because she wouldn’t put it past her carrier to let her tumble back into that salty, liquid mess.

He must have been thinking about it too, because his gaze became hard again as it lingered on them. Carefully, Updraft ignored him, and watched Glory instead. This proved to be the right choice—Glory was already grinning, even as she rested her hands on Wildfire's snout in a gesture to keep him back.

“Stay here,” she said firmly. “Uncle T is with me, so you don’t have to worry.”

Wildfire looked wholly unconvinced, and Updraft expected Starscream to grouse. But he only rolled his optics and went through the airlock first.

When he disappeared, Glory’s optics went mischievous.” Wildfire got him good the first day he was here,” she said. “He knows not to mess with him.”

“Out you go, Glory,” Thundercracker said. “Show the Air Commander what you can do, alright?”

“Yeah!” With that, Glory had taken her turn, because apparently not even Starscream could keep her from flying properly.

“I'll be right behind you,” Thundercracker said. He patted Updraft's shoulder, and it was almost like having her sire again for a moment. “Have you used your antigravs very much?”

Updraft shook her head, trying not to let the dread settle in. “Not really. Just a little hovering in my room.”

That didn’t seem to bother Thundercracker, to her relief. “They’re easier to stay on than you think. Don’t worry.”

Updraft didn’t give herself time to worry. (Or time for Starscream to get impatient.) She stepped gingerly through the lock, let it close, and waited. Water rushed in, but she rushed right up against it, pushing out into the cold water and up.

It really wasn’t that far, and she turned her thrusters on.

And when she was in the air, Updraft found Thundercracker was right. She wasn’t scared at all.

Glory was hovering some ways away, clearly giving Starscream a wide berth while she waited. As soon as Updraft broke through she zoomed over, turning a neat circle around her and giggling. Behind them, Thundercracker appeared where Updraft just had, about a hundred times more graceful even just breaking through the surface.

“About time,” Starscream said. “Glory, straighter. Shoulders back, and you’ll hover more accurately. You look like a hunted turbofox.”

Updraft tried to emulate her, but she was even more wobbly. Her spark rolled in dread, wondering how many snide remarks her carrier would manage to throw.

But it was no worse than what Glory had been told. In fact—and Updraft was loathe to say it—she enjoyed herself.

Starscream was no better a teacher in the air than on the ship, but Updraft almost couldn’t be afraid of him when she was doing quick, careful laps above the _Nemesis,_ followed closely by Glory and under the sharp optics of two fliers. By the end of a basic lesson on starting and stopping, speeding up, and staying still, Updraft couldn’t imagine how anyone agreed to a ground bound alt. This was vital to being. How had she made it through before without antigravs?

Even Glory had lost her fear up here, concentrating as hard as she ever had to balance and hover straight. When their hour was up, they were tired and wobbly, but Starscream didn’t seem terribly unhappy.

“Next week we’ll go higher, of course,” he said. “You both have your flight coding, I will say that. Dismissed.”

Glory was baffled in the washrack, as they rinsed off the salt stains. “Why wasn’t he scary and horrible?” she asked her uncle. (Starscream had elected to wash in his private rack, to Updraft's relief.)

“Glory,” Thundercracker sighed, even as Updraft grinned at her. “Please don't call the Air Commander _scary and horrible._ ”

“Well, he is,” she retorted. “I guess he really likes flying.”

“He does,” Thundercracker said. “But Skywarp and I will still go to your lessons. He just likes flying, it doesn’t…”

“Fix him?” Glory asked. Updraft giggled.

“Well, I liked it,” she said. “Even with Starscream. I want to be a Seeker, too.”

“Do you?” Thundercracker said, smiling and making her feel warmer. “It’s not an easy form.”

Updraft tipped her chin up. “I can do it.”

“Me too!” Glory declared, making Thundercracker grin.

“Well, study hard. You’ll see a lot more of Starscream if that’s your choice.”

Still on her flying high, Updraft could hardly bring herself to care.

* * *

 

“Do you have a moment, Prowl?”

“Of course.” Optimus confided in all of his officers, but for this he believed Prowl would be the best suited—and most useful. If there was a record out of place, one Optimus might have overlooked or not properly scoured, Prowl would find it. And if he couldn’t, he could point him to someone that had an answer instead.

Right away, Prowl straightened in his seat, no doubt watching how Optimus held himself and sat down.

“You're very troubled,” Prowl said. “The child?”

Optimus nodded, smiling behind his mask. Trust his second to work out the problem in an instant. Probability calculations or some such thing beyond Optimus.

“I have been looking for information on her most of this week,” he said. “The Decepticons have been quiet, and I've found Ironhide and Jazz suitable missions to distract them.”

Prowl raised a brow. “You believe they’d interfere again?”

“Yes,” Optimus said. “Ironhide even submitted a formal report. He feels that it is cruelty to leave a sparklet so closely in Starscream’s care.”

Prowl flicked his doors once, looking thoughtful. “The likelihood Starscream sees to her needs is low,” he said after a moment. “Though she’s old enough to see to the key ones herself. Emotionally, however…”

“Yes,” Optimus said, more solemnly. “He is not suitable. But it is no more suitable for us to take her away, when it’s clear her life has already been uprooted.”

“But you wouldn’t come here just to tell me you still feel that way,” Prowl said. He was calm, unruffled, and must have been in a good mood. Certainly not the mech who had thrown Sideswipe out on his audial that morning over…well, Optimus had not actually been privy to the incident. When it came to Sideswipe, there was never any shortage of _incidents_ aboard this ship _._

“No,” Optimus agreed. “I would not. I’ve come because of what I’ve found about this sparklet's origins, as they do disturb me. It was not difficult to discover a census in which she was present, and where she was living.”

As expected, Prowl stared at him “Census?” he repeated. “Optimus, your sources must be falsified. There’s been no census since before Simanzi.”

“No,” Optimus said quietly. “This is the last one before that. Updraft of Vos, born to Starscream of Vos and sired by a mech unknown to me. Knock Out.”

“That can’t be right,” Prowl said. “She would be well into her upgrade by now.”

“Indeed she would,” Optimus said. Better to let Prowl parse all this sentence by sentence, and not throw it all on him at once. He had enough to worry about. “She was living in Rodion with her sire, right before the Simanzi Massacre and all its horrors. And her trail ends there. She's listed among the missing after everything ends.”

“So she was considered dead,” Prowl said quietly. “After millennia, there would be no reason to search…”

“But we of all mechs would know how long a stasis can last,” Optimus said.

Prowl nodded slowly, his doors dipped low in thought. “She would have had to have been put in it. The territories of Greater Iacon have been in Decepticon hands since Simanzi.”

“And until then, Rodion was stubbornly neutral,” Optimus said. “It held both factions, and those without one. But it was deemed uninhabitable until very recently, according to Elita-1.”

“It’s very unlikely she’s some kind of imposter,” Prowl said. “A spark test would have been done, and matched. More likely is a medical stasis left until Rodion was drained. Her survival is remarkable.”

“Starscream himself is incredibly resilient,” Optimus said. “I'm willing to believe little Updraft is as well.”

Prowl frowned then, hands clasped in front of him on the desk. “Sir, is it…really best? I agree that Thundercracker is capable, but Starscream is a narcissist. She cannot have a happy life with him.”

“No,” Optimus said. “No less happy than one where we’ve kidnapped her and raised her as an Autobot. The sparklet lost her sire, and lived through the horror of Simanzi before being packed off to Earth. We will not interfere.”

“Yes, sir,” Prowl said. His optics were bright, watching him and what he would say next. “Did you speak to Skyfire?”

“Yes, and he knew nothing of her,” Optimus said. “I believe she was ignited after his disappearance. He was...distressed, Prowl. He said Starscream was a fine scientist once, and not the person he is now.”

“None of us are, sir,” Prowl mused,his lip twitching. “But Starscream in particular has…evolved, from his origins.”

Optimus managed not to let out his chuckle. “Indeed. I would like you to see if you can access any further records on this matter. It’s possible that our theory is confirmed somewhere.”

“Of course, Prime. It will be done.”

“Thank you, Prowl. Have a pleasant evening.”

It felt better, to have shared the burden with someone else. Of course Optimus had not seen Simanzi, but its horror was well documented, and for a _child_ to have been even peripheral to them, and _survive…_

He might never get to know how it was she had returned to Starscream’s dubious care. Still, Thundercracker and his trine leader were close—Optimus could only hope he had a hand in her care.

 _Updraft, Glory, you are our future._ All _of our futures, not only your faction's. I will do what is right to keep you safe._


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Updraft sees her first battle. What goes on inside her is harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more update for 2017! It's been...a year, but writing my stories has definitely made it better for me and I hope people have enjoyed them! I love your comments and feedback so much.

In time, Updraft’s days formed their pattern.

She never took her energon alone. It was too easy to end up lonely in her memories, and Skywarp or Thundercracker always had a smile for her. Glory truly already considered her a friend, always patting the bench next to her when Updraft arrived and chattering on about anything she could think of.

Updraft had no siblings, but she guessed having Glory around was something like having a younger sister. They were the only two sparklets on this planet, and by extension their schedules were quickly fit together. It was a busy one, too, the best kind for keeping your mind off things.

Monday was lessons with Hook, who was a grump, but could be softened up with quick answers and quicker work. Still, Glory was right about him being fun to rile up, and Updraft took a more subtle method than her classmate: easy back talking, and making comments that made Glory giggle and Hook (she swore) turn red in the faceplates with anger.

Tuesday mornings were Soundwave, impossible to rile up and his monotone impossibly boring. Still, he had a habit of putting energon sweets out on his desk, which Glory took from eagerly. They were for the cassettes, probably, but of course Updraft followed suit, and Soundwave never stopped them. (It had been a long time since she’d been able to indulge her sweet tooth. Where was he getting them?) She and Glory tended to just take their lessons home and go over them there, because Updraft was writing notes purely to keep herself awake.

Wednesdays were the Combaticons—mostly Swindle, who plied her with gifts from day one onward and who felt instantly comfortable, like an eccentric uncle. He'd known Knock Out well, apparently, but he wasn’t enough like him for it to really hurt. They were supposed to learn economics and human culture from him (how Megatron allowed the second subject, she didn’t know), but half the time they played board games or listened to some outlandish story—sometimes about him and Knock Out as younger mechs, just to “brighten Updraft up,” so he said.

“You know,” Swindle said one day. “I hear people say you’re like your carrier, but I don’t think that’s quite true.”

“Do they?” Updraft said. She didn’t look up from the oversized Catan board, but her spark lurched. Couldn’t she be more like Thundercracker? Even mischievious Skywarp, or friendly Glory?

Friendly Glory was, today, more matter of fact. “You are, a little,” she said, examining the wheat and sheep in her hand (she had too many of both). “You roll your optics the same way.”

Swindle grinned. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess your looks, kid. And a few of your mannerisms. But you’re more like your sire.”

Updraft looked up then, game completely forgotten. “Am I?” she said, more quietly.

Beside her, Glory watched them both with great interest. She hadn’t known Knock Out, of course, but she was curious (Starscream would say nosy) about everything and everyone. And knew a thing or two about dead parents, so Updraft didn’t hold it against her.

Swindle leaned forward, smiling kindly. He had this sleazy businessmech look that he didn’t use on the two of them, and she suspected mechs might like him more if he wasn’t always trying to pull a deal out of them. He wasn't needlessly cruel, or violent, or an engex addict. Still, Glory loved him, and he was unusually good to them for a mech outside of Starscream’s trine.

“Well, you’re careful about your appearance,” Swindle said.

Updraft smiled. “You can say _vain,_ ” she said, and Swindle laughed.

“Oh, sweetie, you’re too young to be vain,” he said cheerfully. “Did your sire still stop and buff in the street if something happened to his finish?”

Her spark ached at the memory, but she was still smiling at it. “Of course. He had a polish kit wherever we went.”

Glory’s face clearly said that that was funny, but Updraft didn’t care. It was—and it was a memory to keep, in this ridiculous place.

Wednesdays were long, because afternoons were with the rest of the Combaticons. Swindle's team was nothing like him, and only Onslaught was required to give them the time of day. He _was_ interesting, and liked being in the rapt attention of two sparklets wanting war stories, but that attention had _better_ be rapt or they'd suffer the lecturing consequences.

Thursdays with the Stunticons, a team younger than Updraft and who all acted like it. She hadn’t known what to make of them, young, violent grounders with a lot to prove, but they loved Glory and Glory loved right them back. Updraft tried to keep her distance—even if racing with them _was_ fun.

And with Dead End in the room, at least she could say she wasn’t the most solemn person aboard.

Friday mornings with Starscream, through they still stuck dread in her chest, were not as frightening as she'd expected. It was the only real time she spent with him, and watched sharply by his trine mates or Wildfire, she felt safe enough. At Skywarp's insistence, Starscream let them race at the end of each lesson, and Updraft was delighted to find that she was faster than Glory, even if the younger sparklet still had better control.

Friday and Saturday afternoons were with Thundercracker, who covered things that were the most like her early education. He wasn’t a trained teacher, and much of the material were things she had already learned in school. Still, he had gone out of his way to protect her. The least she could do was try to pay attention to his lesson. (It could have always been _another_ morning with Soundwave.)

The rest of the time, Glory kept her busy.

“I have so many games, and holovids, and _human_ games and vids, and lots of them no one else likes!” she’d gushed. It was true, and Updraft had no doubt Swindle was responsible for some of this spoiling.

Glory did have a lot of allies on this base—but adult mechs, however friendly, were no replacement for someone your own age. Updraft showed her how to double-coat a polish (Glory immediately scuffed it the next day, rough-housing with Wildrider), and in turn Glory showed her the best hiding places and vantage points for two curious sparklets. Updraft taught her a little Vosian (something she made no indication to Starscream of remembering) and Glory showed her how to adjust the holovid screen in each room, and get human cable channels.

But when Glory suggested they “peek” into Starscream’s room, Updraft put her foot down.

“I thought you were scared of him?” she said, watching Glory do a poor job of picking the lock. “Besides, he _can’t_ catch me doing tricks on people. _Especially_ on him.”

“Yeah, so he won’t catch you,” Glory said. With the safety of another Seeker behind her, Glory had progressed to sticking her tongue out at Starscream if he wasn’t looking, and had clearly toyed with delivering pranks of her own to him. “Rumble and Frenzy showed me how to get in and out of somewhere. No trace. And he's gone all weekend.”

“He’s going to be just as scary as before, and Warp and TC can’t back you up then,” Updraft said. And Glory could go home and escape him, a luxury Updraft didn’t have. “ _Don’t._ ”

Glory groaned. “ _Fine._ You're no fun sometimes, Updraft. You don't even _like_ him.”

“No,” Updraft said. “I’m very unfun. You’ll thank me when he hasn’t tried to strip your paint.”

If they were like sisters, than sisters certainly argued. Updraft had found quickly that she didn’t like tricks as much as Glory or the cassettes did. Not just played on her carrier—it didn’t look enjoyable to have a huge, furious mech on your tailpipe, but Glory still let it happen and shrieked with laughter each time. Often Thundercracker would step in and protect her, and there was always Wildfire. Still, Updraft didn’t consider it worth the distress.

It _was_ always funny to see what she had come up with, and for a burly warrior to end up howling because a little femme had outsmarted him. It certainly couldn’t be said that the _Nemesis_ was boring.

And there was Wildfire.

No one had known what to make of the bodyguard mech's gentle treatment of Updraft, until Megatron had gotten word from Shockwave about why. Wildfire was not, in fact, programmed _only_ to protect Glory, but all other sparklets. Given that Glory had been the only sparklet around, Shockwave had apparently seen no reason to make a specific program past his charge's name. Wildfire easily learned Updraft's name, too, and was just as affectionate with her as to Glory when they were together.

“Protect Glory,” Wildfire often said firmly. “Protect Updraft, too.”

It wasn’t until one early Thursday, when Updraft was supposed to be getting ready for the racing derby (Stunticon lessons) that she found out why a bodyguard had really been built. Certainly the Decepticons could defend two small sparklets on base. The rapping on her door alarmed her, but when she opened it Updraft found a beaming Glory, a stiff Wildfire, and a solemn looking Thundercracker.

“We’re going fighting!” Glory said. “The briefing is about to happen. I hope you’re ready!”

Confused, Updraft turned to Thundercracker. He shook his head, tapping Glory on the helm.

“You're _observing_ fighting,” he said, and sounded profoundly unhappy about it. “From a safe vantage point, with Wildfire near you at all times. Lord Megatron feels you can only really be educated in it if you see us firsthand.”

“You don’t agree,” Updraft said. It wasn’t a question. Thundercracker stiffened, but shook his head, and his optics flashed brighter for a moment. A warning, she realized, to keep that to herself.

“Nothing compares to first hand experience,” he said. It _would_ be true, one way or another. “Stay in touching distance of each other, and Wildfire. You know he’s…very capable.”

Updraft had to smile at that, because that at least, was true.

She had never been to a formal briefing, but it was quick. Just Megatron gathering his soldiers in a large common space, to tell them the plan why it was brilliant. Updraft tried to listen as closely as she could, and found there wasn’t much to remember: invade the power plant, remove a half dozen generators, and neutralize the inevitable Autobot defenders.

Well, if Wildfire dealt with them as deftly as he had that spy, Updraft doubted there would be much of a problem. Starscream stood at Megatron's side, looking bored, even rolling his optics occasionally. She’d like to see how her carrier fought, if she was honest. He had an incredibly powerful position, but Glory had assured her that the rumours of Starscream's attempted overthrows were all true, and he had optics only for being leader. It explained why he paid so little attention to her, anyway.

She, Glory and Wildfire were loaded up, and they were off, rolling rather slowly along with the Constructicons as their escort. Glimpsing the Seeker units taking off had been thrilling, but she had only had a moment before Long Haul shut the door.

“You’ll see plenty of flying,” Glory said. “Uncle T always says to watch the Seekers in particular.”

“Maybe Starscream will make us write a paper on them,” Updraft said mischievously. “ _Describe how much better I am than everyone else in 500 words.”_

Glory snorted, and they giggled the whole way to the power plant. For the moment, it cured Updraft's unease.

Updraft had seen Autobot delegates early in the war, and the spy named Mirage much more close up. Seated safely on a hillside to watch the proceedings, Prime's ragtag group didn’t seem all that frightening. Optimus himself was big and imposing, and the smaller mechs all jumped to his command, but they were almost all thinly armoured, and rather small.

“Those are the Aerialbots,” Glory said, pointing. “They’re younger than we are, just warborn soldiers. They only fly _okay._ And—oh, there’s Uncle Warp, look at him!”

Skywarp did a glorious spin earthward, and if Updraft pretended hard enough she could imagine being that jet, full of control and poise as he turned at the last second, missing the ground by an inch.

“That’ll be us one day,” Updraft said. She turned to Glory, grinning. “Me sooner than you.”

Glory frowned. “I don’t want to be upgraded yet, not really. Then we’d have to _really_ fight.”

“If I could know who dropped the bomb that killed my sire, I’d fight,” Updraft said, more quietly. “Even in this frame.”

Maybe she had been too serious, when Glory was quiet nearly a full minute and Wildfire's nose appeared between them, his bright optics concerned

“They wouldn’t be on Earth,” Glory finally said. She smiled, though it wasn’t a happy thought. “Most of the ones here were in a long stasis, same as Megatron’s team.”

“And me,” Updraft said.

“And you.”

Starscream _did_ fly best, better even than Thundercracker (who also flew beautifully, and had had two shots meet their target. She would have to tell him so, so he’d have _one_ reason to be pleased with her.)

Despite it, they had only managed to free two tanks, not the six the plant sported. One had actually been blown up by Astrotrain, and Updraft could just imagine the punishment that would come his way.

She had also never been out in the Earth dust this long, and the tickle in her vents was familiar and unpleasant. She tried her best to swallow it.

“We’re losing,” Glory said glumly. “We did better last time.”

“Not too many injured, though,” Updraft said. Maybe she would wait to tell Starscream about his flying—losing, much like anything else, was something that would put him in a mood.

“Hook will be glad about that, but not Megatron,” Glory said. “And—Updraft, are you okay? Your optics are flickering.”

Of course she would notice, after weeks of being Updraft’s companion. Quickly, she pulled back.

“I’m…well, my vents aren’t circulating right,” she confessed. When Glory opened her mouth, Updraft actually covered it.

“Don’t say anything,” she hissed. Suddenly her spark felt constricted, frightened. “Command will already be upset about losing. I’ve dealt with it before.”

“But—”

“Glory,” Updraft said. Her voice had a ragged edge, from the pressure on her vents. Stupid self-repair protocols. She wasn’t even hurt!

Thundercracker noticed the moment he touched down to collect them. He actually bent to pick her up, seeing her rise unsteadily to her feet, and Glory jumped to her feet.

“Don’t,” she said, optics meaningful. “Let her walk, Uncle T. Command is here.”

Thundercracker stared at her, and it clearly went against his every instinct to listen—but he nodded, and took Glory's hand as he walked them back to the transport. Skywarp sat nearby, one wing singed and looking glum, but his lips twitched when he saw them.

She held in her coughs the whole back, and Wildfire’s equine muzzle stayed firmly in the crook of her shoulder. None of this was new to her, but it had been a long time (not counting her stasis) since she had really felt it.

The Academy had had a liability policy against “the chronically infirm” too. She had learned early how to downplay it.

“Are you really alright?” Thundercracker asked, pausing at her door. His hand rested on the back of her neck, bigger than her sire's. “Hook isn’t too slammed, he'll have time—”

“I’m fine,” Updraft said again. “I _have_ to be fine. Goodnight, TC.”

He wasn’t a parent by spark, but he sure looked like one in that moment. Finally, he sighed, and stepped back. “Goodnight.”

Her berth wasn’t welcoming, but the coughing still pushed her to it, curled under her thermoblanket like a cocoon. Knock Out said when her spark felt too big, and her frame started to feel unlike it was hers, her upgrade would be ready. Neither of those things were true, but hiding in her room and too cold and warm at the same time, she still wanted to slough off this stupid body and her stupid vents like an old skin.

In her spark, she had a few years to go.

A rapping on the door made her sit up. “Updraft?” called her carrier, rolling dread through her spark. “I know you’re sick in there. And I’m in enough trouble with _Lord Megatron_ without your antics. Be better by morning!”

_Antics._

Why had he _wanted_ her? Maybe dying with Knock Out would have been best, because she wouldn't feel like she was Starscream’s weird status symbol, or tool, or whatever it was he kept her for. She wouldn’t be here to miss her sire, her classmates, Rodion.

But she wouldn’t have met Glory, or the trine. Thundercracker's gentleness, and Skywarp's secret, genuine kindness. Glory herself and all her excitement at having a friend like her. Even Swindle, and the Stunticons, and the friendly, interested (troublemaking) cassettes.

It wouldn’t be easy to play with Glory, once she was a full-fledged soldier. And it hadn’t been that long, but losing that bright spot would ache in her spark.

She drifted off, still wheezing, but still a sparklet. And, somehow, still grateful for it.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No matter how good things might be going, one can always count on Starscream to change that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year! Here's a nice long update to start 2018. Another will be up Sunday, and thanks as always for the feedback!
> 
> We're over halfway through now, but I can assure you we haven't hit our peak yet! Thanks for reading.

“Your carrier's outside,” Glory said.

Updraft looked up. The cheerful music from their human game was oddly positioned inside Thundercracker's cool purple quarters, especially since some of the posters had had to come down. (She had to respect Glory's guts at firing her paintball practice pistol _in her room_ , but Thundercracker had lost his patience and grounded her for three days.)

“I didn’t hear him knock,” she said, even as she realized Glory’s audial was pressed against the door. Her optics were narrowed, listening intently, but Wildfire didn’t lift his head. There was, after all, a slab of metal between Starscream and his charges.

Glory’s optics went wide, and Updraft's spark lurched. They had both heard her name, louder than the muffled conversation, so Updraft found herself crossing the small room and pressing her audial to the door next to Glory.

“Do you spend any time with her outside of Friday mornings?” Thundercracker was saying. “Do you know about her likes, her dislikes?”

“No one thinks about _mine_ ,” Starscream scoffed—naturally, the world revolved on an axis of the Air Commander. “Besides, I’m much too busy. Not all of us have time to play nursemaid.”

Thundercracker’s long sigh was audible. “You were so relieved she was alive. You begged to have her come to you, and for what? How much longer do I have to have this conversation with you?”

“As many times as you want, Thundercracker. It will fall on deaf audials.”

Glory’s optics were bright red slits, her little fists clenched. Updraft appreciated her righteous anger, and let it warm her spark, even if it did no good.

“She’s tough, your daughter. She has your spark for that stuff. But support—”

“Ha! Do you think anyone supported me when I was down, Thundercracker? When the law thought I murdered Skyfire? When I carried her, alone? Please.”

Another sigh, from Thundercracker. “Maybe _Updraft_ would appreciate it if you gave her what she didn’t have, then. Support, a listening audial. The knowledge that you’ll help her the next time she’s not well.”

“I wonder, lately, where I went wrong to cause _that._ I suppose I found out about the carriage too late, and didn’t take those blasted supplements. When she can neutralize this…weakness, I’ll consider—”

Glory feared Starscream. Updraft had figured that out quickly.

During lessons she was better, trying to follow his instructions and full of the joy that came with flight, but otherwise she stayed close to Thundercracker or Skywarp, unwilling to turn his wrath on her if caught.

So Updraft didn’t for a second expect her optics to blaze so bright, and for her to fling open Thundercracker's door and stomp outside.

“Updraft is _strong,_ ” Glory snapped planting her small self in front of Starscream. “She’s got a health problem, it doesn’t mean she’s _weak._ She lived through _Simanzi_ , and survived a stasis—just like you! I bet you’d be happier if you were nicer, _Air Commander._ ”

For a moment, there was silence. They all stared at her, Thundercracker's jaw hanging low, and Updraft’s spark bursting with feeling that couldn’t decide if she were pleased or sick with dread.

When Starscream took a step forward, it was too soft, and right away Glory shrank back. Updraft knew regret when she saw it.

“Is that,” he said, very softly, “How you treat your future Air Commander?”

Before anyone could answer, he was roaring. “Is that the kind of disrespectful _tripe_ that you’re teaching _my_ daughter, you little brat?! How dare you!”

Glory shrank back right away, to the safety of Thundercracker's legs, but it wasn’t only fear that blazed in her optics.

“You’re just embarrassed,” she spit.

“Glory!” Thundercracker warned. He shot Updraft an anxious look, but there was certainly nothing they could do for each other there.

“You’re embarrassed that a little girl caught you out in how bad you’ve been,” Glory went on, her words a flood. “If _my_ family came back from the dead, I’d never get angry at them again! I’d want them! How dare _you!”_

Another silence. Updraft felt like she was going to throw up her spark, and she wanted to shake Glory for speaking out so stupidly.

 _You have a sour edge, sweet spot,_ Knock Out would tell her. _Good for colour, but it’s going to get you in trouble one day._

Clearly, Glory had one too.

“That’s enough,” Updraft said quietly. Glory looked at her then, and finally seemed to look like she’d realized this had been ill thought out.

“Yes,” Starscream said, his voice low and terrible. “It is. I'm collecting my daughter then, Thundercracker.”

“But, sir—”

“Oh, spare me another mech talking worthlessly at me!” Starscream snapped. His wings were flicking around too wildly, his optics flashing, and it wasn’t all anger. Glory had hit a nerve. “Updraft, get over here.”

Starscream was the last person she wanted to go anywhere with. Even if it was only to tell Glory why that had been stupid, and to curl up in silence against Thundercracker’s other side.

It was clear Thundercracker wanted her to stay, too. But he wasn’t the one on her custody papers, or a stupid, enigmatic spark that she’d been unlucky enough to come from.

In silence, Updraft followed her carrier.

“Well,” Starscream huffed. “The _attitude_ on that brat!”

 _You'd know a lot about it,_ Updraft thought. She said nothing, three of her steps needed to keep up with one of Starscream's.

“I don’t want you spending time with her any more,” Starscream said, and Updraft almost recoiled in horror. Poor Glory! Poor _her!_ Her friend had only tried to stand up for Updraft, something almost no one else could or would do, not in ways that counted. She was Updraft’s only friend, and what would she do all by herself?

“That’s not possible,” Updraft said. She almost said _fair_ , but managed not to just in time. “No one will be able to change out the schedules and teach us separately.”

Starscream huffed in disgust, wings twitching. Of course he hadn’t thought about that.

“I suppose you two waste enough of our time,” he said. “Remember, my daughter, that you belong to the Air Commander. You are better than she is.”

_No, carrier. We're both better than you._

“I need to get to work,” Starscream said. “I expect you to continue on your studies.”

“Yes, carrier,” she said. She sounded a little like a drone, which was likely what Starscream wanted out of her in the first place. Until she could be a true Seeker, anyway, and Starscream could find a _use_ for her.

Knock Out had never needed her to be useful. He hadn’t even _known_ about Updraft until Starscream dumped her off on him, but she had never felt like she wasn’t wanted, cherished. She’d also never felt all that much need to disobey him, not in the ways that mattered.

She curled up in her berth, and vowed that she would be seeing Glory soon. And _not_ just for lessons.

* * *

Glory had clearly expected to be scolded when Thundercracker shut the door. But she should have known by now that parenting had made him soft. At her first sob, he sighed, and gathered her up.

“You’re brave to stand up for your friend,” he said into her shoulder. “And you’re right. Updraft is strong.”

“But,” Glory said, her voice muffled. “There’s always a but, right? I didn’t help her any.”

Thundercracker dropped onto his berth, still cradling Glory against his shoulder. She’d matured—especially since Updraft had arrived—but she was still just a little girl caught in a war. A little girl with a big spark, who wanted her friend to feel as safe as she did aboard this old ship.

But things certainly _were_ changing, if she was willing to talk like that to the mech she most feared.

“Yeah,” he agreed, gently patting her back. “I know what you were trying to do, but no one likes being scolded. Especially not Starscream. It makes him petty. Pettier.”

“Do you think he’ll hurt Updraft?” she asked. Wildfire nosed Glory's leg then, trying to reach her, and Thundercracker didn’t dare push him away.

“I doubt it,” he said, and hoped she believed him. It was the truth, but for an unhappy reason: he simply didn’t think Starscream cared enough to harm her. “He’ll probably watch the both of you more closely, though. I know you only wanted to help.”

His niece turned to look at him, looking up with her oversized optics.

“Do you think it was good that she came?” Glory asked finally. Thundercracker’s spark jolted in guilt. “I like her. I like having a friend. But Starscream…”

“Shh,” Thundercracker said. Gently, he set her down next to him. His words were almost as much to comfort him as they were for Glory, because he had been the one to vouch for Starscream. “Updraft has a very hard carrier to deal with. But Shockwave's academy is a bad place to grow up. Megatron brought you both here specifically to prevent that, because you both had family to do it.”

“Well,” Glory said fiercely. “Shockwave should fix his academy. He doesn’t do that much else up there!”

“Glory—”

“And Starscream’s _barely_ her family,” Glory went on, her optics blazing. If these two sparklets were any indication, the next generation of Seekers would be fearsome indeed. Little fireballs, the both of them. “He carried her, but he’s not _nice_ to her. I think—he’s sick. Sick right in his spark.”

“Glory,” Thundercracker sighed, grateful that she hadn’t burst out _that_ part earlier. “One day, Starscream will be your Air Commander. Updraft’s, too, if you both choose a flying mode. You don’t have to like it, but talking like that won’t fix him, okay? It won’t help Updraft.”

“What will, then?” Glory asked. Wildfire thrust his equine muzzle into her lap then, and she patted his nose.

“We will,” Thundercracker said. “As best we can. I doubt Starscream will want you to play together now.”

At that, Glory's face grew frightened, so he went on quickly. “But I don’t think that will help anything. Starscream is very busy, and Skywarp and I will keep an optic on you two.”

“Like always,” she said, leaning against him.

“Yeah,” he said, spark warming. “Like always.”

Even Wildfire’s soft snort was a little comforting. Thundercracker was just about to really savour the joy his niece brought, when a knock interrupted him.

Glory looked distressed, obviously worried it was Starscream again. When Thundercracker crossed the room and opened the door, he found a grinning Skywarp instead, his wings perked up. Next to him, his broad hand on her shoulder, was Updraft, peeking into their quarters nervously.

“These kids need to be taken flying,” Skywarp said. “Stat. I will not rest until they’re exhausted and full of joy.”

Thundercracker looked between the two sparklets. Normally Glory would have jumped up in excitement at the thought of a free flight, but today she slid down from the berth slowly, approaching Updraft.

“Are you okay?” she asked. Updraft nodded, though she didn’t look certain.

“I might get in trouble for sneaking out with Skywarp,” she said. Then she smiled. “But he said it’s a clear night. And there’s bio…something, that lights up.”

“I don’t remember the name,” Skywarp said, grinning. “But it’s pretty, and they’ve never seen it.”

“Bioluminescence,” Thundercracker said, smiling in spite of himself. “Updraft, you won’t be in trouble. You’re currently supervised by both of us.”

“And your carrier can shove it if he’s upset,” Skywarp said cheerfully. “We’ll take care of him.”

Thundercracker could hardly blame her for not looking certain, but she nodded.

It _was_ a perfect night for flying. Cool and clear and quiet, with waves lapping gently against each other in the breeze. Thundercracker saw, with plenty of pride, that Glory did fly with more confidence and grace since her lessons had begun. Even in the little frames of sparklets, she and Updraft could zip around higher and more confidently on their antigravs, giggling and hardly wobbling. Their laughter was occasionally interrupted with the _-WOP-_ of Skywarp teleporting to surprise one of them. Especially, Thundercracker noticed with some chagrin, _him_ , because Skywarp knew exactly how to make him jump.

The girls never stumbled on their antigravs now, despite Skywarp's best efforts to cause it. In the waves floated the bioluminescence, a blue so vivid that it made Thundercracker’s spark pang for Cybertron. Glory scooped it out of the ocean with her hands and decorated herself, painting glyphs and whatever designs pleased her. Skywarp allowed two glowing eyebrows above his optics, but Updraft was content to look.

“I don’t know what it'll do to my finish,” she said. Thundercracker grinned at her.

“You’re sparked from Vosians, alright,” he said. “Vain and preening.”

Updraft might have been above a new glow, but she wasn’t above splashing him with regular seawater for that.

“ _The sky is beautiful, and so too must we be,_ ” Updraft said, in Vosian. Her optics were laughing, and her delight at their surprise was contagious.

“That’s an _old_ saying!” Skywarp crowed. “Did Screamer teach you that, you little Vosian?”

“My sire,” Updraft said proudly, and didn’t seem pained by the memory. Instead, she did he best to splash Skywarp, and scoot away with the most hairpin turn she could manage without an alt.

It was so important for sparklets to have fun. Important for the adults was remembering how it was done, because it lifted a weight off their sparks for awhile and made the world seem lighter. Skywarp excelled at this, even if Thundercracker still needed work.

When Glory and Updraft did start to wobble, they knew it was time to go back. Glory's decorations floated off in a glowing stream as they approached the ship, and even on the dark dive Updraft’s optics glowed content. It was easy to see the person she could be in moments like this, mischievous and clever. Perfect traits, for the path she wanted to take.

With any luck, the war would end before she could be shot down during it.

Cleaned up, they settled in Skywarp's room. Thundercracker pretended he wasn’t watching all that hard, but _The Iron Giant_ was a good one—if a bit depressing. But he could see why the intel had brought it back off the Autobot's favourites list.

Skywarp dozed, so he listened to the girl's whispers. They were sitting close together, tucked under the same thermoblanket, so Thundercracker supposed all had been forgiven.

“I should have been more careful,” Glory murmured into Updraft’s audial.

“Me too,” Updraft whispered back. “Thanks for sticking up for me.”

“You _deserve_ it,” Glory whispered firmly, and Thundercracker smiled.

They didn’t keep awake through the movie, of course. Not after hard, playful flying like they had just done. He had returned with Glory to their quarters, resting her gently on her berth, when he got a comm from Skywarp.

_Screamer's on a mission? Three weeks, looks like, took Reflector, the coneheads, and Blitz. Just putting the kiddo to bed._

_Honestly? Good,_ Thundercracker replied. _We'll keep an optic on her while he’s gone._

_You say that like he bothers to do that for her._

He found himself thinking of his sister when he lay down for recharge. In a way, Glory had found herself a sibling, too. A sensible one, not whatever the Stunticons thought they were to her. (Or worse, those cassettes.) She wasn’t really like Thundercracker himself, who had been the younger sparklet of his family—he’d been reserved as a child, and more than a bit shy. Happy to play video games and study, at least until he was cleared for flight lessons. Glory was more like her carrier.

And Updraft? She was _more_ reserved, but Thundercracker was starting to believe that was a product of her age. And her trauma, something he couldn’t forget when he pieced the person she was together. Glory had it too, but she had had longer to cope, more chances at safety and settling into her new life. Updraft could hardly be blamed for being less adaptable.

She had been mischievous once, he guessed. Well-loved, and thriving whenever she was shown that love again. The intelligence was what Megatron wanted most of all to cultivate, he knew. Updraft had it in her to be cunning and deadly, even if it was hard to see within that tiny frame. Thundercracker worried about that. Did Updraft herself know what she was capable of?

Did Glory? She would be Starscream’s equal one day in the air, Thundercracker believed that. Both of them would fly high, if given the chance.

But so much of him wanted peace, he had realized. Not a chance for them to prove just how hard they could survive.

* * *

 

 

Starscream hadn't come back, and Updraft savoured the time.

Taking her fuel with Glory and her family. (Updraft considered Skywarp a part of this, even if neither he nor Thundercracker had quite realized his place.) Lessons that only got harder, that she threw herself at, and thrilled in overpowering. Playing with Glory and Wildfire in all free hours, if they couldn’t convince one of Glory's uncles to take them flying that day. The occasional glimpse of Lord Megatron, an intimidating mech who Glory had no qualms about wishing good morning to.

One day he approached them, and Updraft tried not to tense. Skywarp stood up and saluted, but she and Glory were not required to. Officially, there was no insignia on them.

“At ease,” he said, and his dark red optics were on Updraft. She did her best to straighten her backstrut. “I have heard your studies go well. You look well, too.”

“I…thank you, Lord Megatron,” was all she thought to say. He watched her for another long moment, looking from her to Glory slowly. Updraft got the impression that she was being sized up.

“You enjoy flying?” he asked, the absolute last thing she expected. Glory beat her to it.

“Yes, sir!” she said. “And we’re getting really good at it.”

“So your reports say,” he said. “Updraft, do you know the cycles of this planet?”

“Of course, sir,” she said in surprise. What was that supposed to mean?

“How many Earth days fill three of their years?” he asked her. Like always, he sounded deadly serious, even about something so mundane.

Glory and Skywarp, out of the corner of her optic, looked baffled. But Updraft started to understand, and her spark felt like lead.

“One thousand and ninety five,” she said.

“It’s not long at all, for us, but we need you,” he said. His gaze was firm, but not the intensity of her interrogation in his office. “In three years I will check your progress formally, from today. Glory's, too, but you are older. And we will see if you are ready.”

“For my upgrade, sir?” she asked. “What if…I’m not?”

He actually smiled, a cold blade of one that sent a shiver through her. “Then I will have to wait another year. I learned the hard way that these things must not be rushed. But I believe you will please me.”

“I’ll try, Lord Megatron,” she said. When he left them, and the mess hall relaxed, Skywarp looked alarmed. He hustled them to their lesson with Soundwave, and at the door Glory tugged his wrist.

“Are you okay?” she asked. “Updraft’s got three years.”

“Yeah,” he said, patting Updraft’s helm mindlessly. “Yeah, I know. I just—never mind, girls. See you.”

They looked at each other, as Skywarp teleported away and Soundwave opened the door promptly to let them in. A boring lesson, of course, one easy to think about other things in. One half of her processor on how energon refinement worked, the other on three years from then.

She had been approaching upgrade, yes. But Knock Out had wanted to keep her in her sparklet frame as long as possible, even if it meant she lived with her illness longer. It wouldn’t kill her, he said, but the battlefield might.

He wouldn’t be happy that Megatron had, in essence, set a date. But at least he’d given her time to prepare. And little Glory, who was _certainly_ not ready, would have more time to grow up. Was she inadvertently buying Glory that time? Would Thundercracker be grateful?

“Updraft.”

Her name in Soundwave's monotone brought her back to the lesson, fully. Quickly, she tried to remember what about nanites refined energon, and how they were manipulated in better times to change flavours and strength. Her back straight, she looked into his cool gaze.

“Students: Dismissed.”

Glory had already packed up her datapad and was racing out, calling after Rumble and Frenzy (they had snuck out earlier, giggling suspiciously), but Updraft needed a moment to get her datapad. Soundwave's big hand, resting on the desk in front of her, made her pause.

“Is everything alright?” she asked. “You can see my notes, if you want.”

“Notes: Adequate.” There _was_ emotion in his gaze, Updraft just couldn't pick it out. So she waited for him. “Updraft: well looked after?”

She stared at him. “Of course. Thundercracker and Skywarp are--”

“Starscream?”

Updraft shrugged, forcing a smile. “He does his best.”

Soundwave nodded, clearly thinking carefully on what he would say next. He shifted his shoulders, and brightened his visor.

“Soundwave: security head. Protection: my responsibility. In trouble: I will help.”

“I...” Updraft didn't know what to say. Soundwave wasn't frightening, unless you were an Autobot. In fact, he was rather tender with his cassettes, who were devoted to him, and he to them. Updraft didn't consider it a stretch that he would look out for two sparklets.

“I appreciate that,” she said finally, sliding from her chair. “See you next week, Soundwave.”

“Remember this,” was what Soundwave replied with. Then he turned back to his work, like Updraft and Glory had not been there at all.

Three years to make sense of the rest of her childhood, apparently. She was not off to a strong start.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tension is stretched too far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: About 3/4s into this chapter, there's a fairly serious instance of physical child abuse. If that's something that will trigger or otherwise cause you harm, please be careful! It's the only instance of it in this story.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading and commenting, as always! After this update, there are only THREE left! Things come to a head very quickly here. Enjoy!

“Shh,” Thundercracker warned.

They were supposed to have been in recharge an hour ago. Predictably, neither Updraft nor Glory were doing a very good job of getting to it. Starscream was still not back, and Glory had thought something called a “slumber party” would be fun.

She wasn’t wrong (of course she wasn’t!) and she’d loved showing off Thundercracker’s grown-up computer games and staying up late watching videos. Her uncle had worked quietly on some filing, content to let them entertain themselves, but there was always a close optic on the two of them (and what they were watching—he always knew if they clicked a human video with bad words).

Finally tucked in for the night, Thundercracker had taken a break from their book. A short story would be better when they had a guest, after all. Updraft hadn’t started _A Little Princess_ yet. The story was from the Golden Age, about how the first trine was formed and why Vosians flew in threes. Nice, for sure. A little flowery, in Glory's opinion.

“This is an old classic,” Thundercracker had said. His optics were twinkling at them. “Windblade and I grew up on this stuff, you know.”

Updraft grinned. “Humans write better. I’ve been reading their books.”

Thundercracker smiled. “I won’t tell Megatron you said that. But—I agree. These are pretty old, but I like them as they are.”

“And I guess no one really has time to write books during wars,” Glory said.

“No,” said Thundercracker. “When we win, there will be time again. _Now,_ it’s late, and it’s time we recharged.”

Hence the two of them tucked up in Glory's berth, as Thundercracker finished off his files and they were supposed to be drifting off to sleep.

But they just couldn’t. Even when Thundercracker turned off his datapad and gave them their first warning, there were things to whisper. They giggled under the blankets (especially each time Wildfire snored) and enjoyed having such a change in routine.

“Girls,” Thundercracker finally warned. “I have patrols, and you have lessons. Hush.”

They shuttered their optics, but they had personal comms. Her uncle probably knew that, but was tired enough not to demand they stop that, too.

 _Sorry he’s so grumpy,_ Glory said, grinning. _Uncle T loves recharge._

 _Frankly, we spend too much time doing it,_ Updraft replied. _There’s so much time at night we could be spending doing stuff._

_There is. But what would we do?_

_Well…have you ever seen the ocean at night?_

Glory managed to stifle her giggle. _Well, no, it’s dark! What would we see?_

 _It is,_ Updraft pressed on, _But what if we shone a light. Do you think the animals are different?_

Creeping about the base after hours was always fun. Normally, Glory did it with Rumble and Frenzy, but Updraft wasn’t comfortable with them, and she was right about being it too risky to get caught playing tricks. They were on thin enough ice with Starscream after her outburst.

And, well, some particular above-water splashing that was definitely accidental, and any other implication slander.

Glory listened for a moment first. _Give Uncle T ten minutes, and only a full out attack will wake him up. And…maybe not even that._

They managed to stifle their giggles long enough not to wake him.

Creeping around her toys, Glory found a flashlight, and an unfinished bag of sweets Skywarp had left. Even in the dim light, Glory knew each creak and step of these halls like her own room, and took Updraft’s hand in hers as they navigated the old ship. With their optics dimmed, it was easy to pretend they were both on a spy mission, vital to defending the Cause. Maybe one day, the two of them would be. It was getting hard for Glory to imagine being without Updraft, each other’s shadows on this ship full of soldiers.

The biggest, quietest window was dark, but when Glory shone the light they saw the kelp forest beyond, tangled in part of the ship where they had landed.

“I guess they haven’t had time to clean it,” Glory said.

“It's a good disguise, though,” Updraft noted. “We shouldn’t shine the light too high up. Humans might see.”

They both clapped hands over their mouths when a salmon swam into view, huge and pink. A few more followed, and if Glory pressed her audial to the glass she could hear the water's quiet rumble.

“I know this planet is dirty and organic…but I like it,” Updraft whispered. “I was looking up some animals after Swindle said they evolve. There’s so many, Glory. Millions.”

“Yeah, and they changed from other ones,” Glory whispered. “Everyone here except me was born before humans even _started._ ”

They ate the candy quietly, and watched their dim beam of light carefully. There were crustaceans on the ocean floor, but not many, and it seemed even the water had gone to sleep.

When Glory yawned, Updraft tapped her. “Back to bed?”

“Just a minute,” Glory said. “I’m enjoying this.”

Her friend smiled. “You’re always moving,” she said. “You don’t stop. But you know, quiet is good too. My sire and I used to sit on the roof and count stars.”

“Mine too,” Glory whispered, surprised. “When I was _really_ young, though. Just into first upgrade. We'd go up and he’d tell me old stories.”

“Who was your sire?” Updraft asked. “I know your carrier was Windblade.”

“Piston of Yuss.” Glory realized she had never spoken her sire's name aloud—but who else would remember him? She frowned. “Uncle T has pictures. It's the only reason I remember his face.”

“Where were you born, Glory?” Updraft asked. “I didn’t actually grow up in Vos, you know. I should have been Updraft of Rodion.”

She wondered if Updraft could remember Knock Out's face, and decided not to ask. And it took her a moment to answer, when she realized it took her time to remember what her first home had been like.

“Polyhex,” she said finally. “My parents were scientists.”

Updraft smiled. “It’s the capital right now, right? One day you can take me on a tour.”

They crept back into their berth without incident, but Glory realized after that Soundwave would certainly have security footage, and might report that they were out of bed.

Updraft was already in recharge, and Glory, full of warmth, found that she didn’t care.

* * *

 

 

Good things probably wouldn’t last.

Updraft didn’t think much about Starscream coming back, even if she dreaded it. Her days were routine, though he was now running late, and she went through her lessons and playdates without his name in her mind.

Carrier. The word didn’t mean much to her.

Skywarp and Thundercracker had good memories of theirs, and Skywarp said he had told his about her and Glory. Thundercracker was more sober—his had died early in the war, before his final upgrade. He never talked about her, but Updraft thought now that he should. She talked about Knock Out as much as she could, because who else would remember him?

“I didn’t even _know_ his parents died until a bit ago,” Glory said at one point. “He bottles things all up, you know.”

Glory had shown her pictures of Windblade and Piston, and she looked like her carrier. Right down to the bright optics and mischief, it was clear who she’d take after in a full Seeker frame.

She didn’t feel anything for Starscream but vague anger. Maybe longing, but for the person he was _supposed_ to be, not who he was. There would be no nurturing to be had out of him, and really Updraft didn’t want it. Who she wanted was Knock Out, but to sulk and cry over his death wasn’t helping her any. This was her lot, after all. In three years she'd be free of her carrier (in a sense, at least), and Megatron would probably be pleased to know she was counting down the days.

“I hope you’re not too bugged out,” Skywarp said to her one day. “He’ll probably be back this week. He’s just tying up some loose ends.”

Updraft stopped sipping her energon. “I know you’ll know before I do. I…kind of hope he’s even later.”

Skywarp's smile was kind. “I’ll bet.”

Of course he arrived in defeat. Thundercracker ended their lesson early at the arrival of a comm, frowning and closing his datapad.

“Your carrier is home,” he said. “And we’re all invited to his debriefing.”

Glory shrank down, and Updraft guessed that it wouldn’t be good. She looked at Thundercracker, already getting up from his seat. He sighed.

“By 'invited' I mean required to attend,” he said, more gently. “Don’t worry. Starscream can take a lot.”

She _hadn’t_ been worried, but if Thundercracker was trying to ease the situation to her, she couldn’t be so sure.

Her carrier deserved whatever he got, most likely. Megatron was leader for good reason, not him.

At least—she hoped he was. They seemed to lose more than to win, and in person he was much less like the propaganda broadcasts and speeches she had heard when she was younger.

Most of the troops were gathered in the briefing room, the offending team standing before Megatron. Starscream’s plating was nicked and his paint chipped, one wing off on a painful looking angle. He looked furious, and when his head turned towards her his optics widened in _rage_.

Updraft almost shrank back, but remembered they were in the briefing room. Skywarp’s hand on her shoulder felt less reassuring than normal, and she struggled to stand up straighter. Whatever she had done and he knew about—or whatever she was simply _angry_ at—it wasn’t on her, and she wouldn’t let him _get_ her because of it.

“So you’ve failed again, Starscream,” Megatron said coolly.

Updraft saw Glory shiver. Normally she wasn’t frightened of their leader, but the edge of darkness on his voice was enough to scare any good Decepticon. And Glory, young as she was, probably qualified as that.

But not her carrier, who flared his wings angrily. “It wasn’t _my_ fault! It was—”

“—It was _what_ , Starscream?” Megatron rumbled. “And your answer had better be good.”

“These idiots,” Starscream finished, and Updraft knew he had no better ideas. “These foolish mechs that you don’t train properly, and then blame _me_ for the failings of!”

“Excuse me,” Reflector said, in their odd tripled voice. “We’ve done our very best. _You_ have gotten us into yet another mess with your ambitions—”

“Silence!” Megatron snapped, striding forward towards Starscream. “You will all be disciplined, but I know where the failure lies.”

“When _I_ am leader—” Starscream spit.

“Ha! You? You can barely look after one sparklet!” Megatron said. “Your trine is one no longer. I don’t need to see what _you’ve_ been leading.”

Updraft took an unconscious step back, and wished that Megatron hadn’t brought her into it. Now everyone was looking at her. Glory had squeezed herself against Thundercracker’s legs, Wildfire between her and the troops.

Starscream’s wide, angry optics glowered at her again.  Updraft stared back, trying to look brave and hateful, and her carrier pointed.

“I'm doing my best to make a good soldier of her,” he snapped. “But if she won’t _listen_ …”

Megatron was rounding on Starscream now, and Updraft guessed she knew what came next.

“She knows better than to listen to a callous fool like you.” Megatron raised his fist, and Glory bunched back tighter against her uncle. “Now, hold still.”

It wasn’t as bad as she’d thought. A few sharp strikes, and her carrier was kneeling, his wings dipped low and his dented helm bowed. He shook with fear or injury, she wasn’t sure which.

“Forgive me, Master!” he said. He could turn impressively pathetic on a dime. “This...this will end.”

It was clear from the troop's faces that they didn’t think it would. Starscream eased himself up slowly at Megatron’s nod, and tried to tip his chin up in pride. After that turnaround, Updraft didn’t think it had worked.

Their leader only sniffed. “See to it that it doesn’t. You’re all dismissed.”

Starscream’s hand was on her shoulder quicker than she expected, leading her out through the crowd. Her spark rolled in dread, but she held her head high and tried to look like a proud Vosian.

Her carrier didn’t speak to him until he had led her into his room, and the door had locked behind them with a soft _click_. When he let go, he sighed, and stood himself in front of her with great dramatics.

“You didn’t follow my orders,” he said.

Updraft didn’t shrug, or shake her head. “No, carrier.”

His optics narrowed. “I told you to interact with the brat only when necessary, but _clearly_ you’ve wormed yourself in close with her and my trine.”

Updraft’s tanks were starting to quake, but she made no indication of it. _You're so smart,_ they kept saying. _So brave, so quick thinking for your age._

_So prove it, Updraft of Vos._

“They weren’t orders,” she said, voice carefully calm. “They were your whims, and nobody cares about them but you.”

The surprise on an adult’s face when one spoke like an adult always satisfied. Even if she worried she’d end up regretting it.

“They are,” Starscream snarled, “my _orders,_ Updraft. Do not associate with her. Or my trine, while we’re at it. They’re clearly influencing you in ways I don’t like. And we’ll see about these useless lessons, while we’re at it. My instruction is superior.”

“You know, you’re okay when we’re flying,” Updraft said. She didn’t feel brave, but something deep in her spark felt _good_ , telling him all the rotten things he harboured. “What happens to you on the ground, carrier? Why would I listen to someone who hates me?”

“ _Updraft—"_

“Thundercracker said you wanted me,” she snapped, her optics blazing. “He said you begged to keep me. And he wouldn’t lie to me, even if _you_ would. But you know what? It's obvious that you just wanted the _idea_ of a sparklet.”

“You little…”

Starscream was approaching, and she was too close to a wall, but her words left her of her own accord. She had tumbled over a razor edge, satisfying and dangerous, and her mouth had forgotten what her brain module knew:

That she was small, and Starscream was not. That he was _dangerous,_ and she hadn’t been around him enough to remember it.

“You gave me up,” she went on, “and it was the best thing you ever did. You don’t care about anyone but yourself, not till you feel guilty. Being glad I wasn’t _dead_ is the minimum effort.”

Starscream's hands were out, but they twitched with hesitance. So she rushed on, pressing her backstrut against that wall. “I wish Skywarp was my carrier. Or Thundercracker. And if I can’t have _that,_ I'd rather be dead with my sire—”

_CRACK!_

Updraft had never been hit before, she realized. The little fights between sparklets at school had been occasional, but they were different from being _struck_ across the faceplate, thrown against the floor with the force. She tasted energon in her mouth, warm and sudden.

And she realized, despite the sharp pain and sudden systems warnings, that she was relieved. When the trine saw what he’d done, they’d never let him near her again.

“You're supposed to be my _heir!_ ” her carrier screamed. “My spark! You follow _my_ commands, and _my_ wishes! But you’re no better than that brat Glory!”

He kicked her, and Updraft yelped, scrambling away from him. There were voices outside, and Updraft raised her arms to hold him off. Maybe it was Starscream's trine, come looking for her, and maybe they would keep her safe. Maybe the mechs on this base would think this was none of their business, and she would be less lucky.

When Starscream calmed down, he’d regret this.

He was going to say something else to her, probably something biting, when a huge blue form launched himself at Starscream and past her.

Updraft had never seen Soundwave's visor white with anger. She also hadn’t realized how hard he could punch, watching Starscream try to scrabble out of his hold.

“ _WE—DO NOT—HARM—SPARKLETS.”_

The sound of plating crunching was sickening, but a muzzle was nosing her. Not Wildfire, she realized, but a feline, sleek and black. Ravage.

To her shock, despite her pain a radio transmission came through. _Up. Not too fast._

(She _had_ guessed Ravage could speak, at least through comm, but he never deigned to prove it to anyone but Soundwave’s circle. Why was he here?)

There were small hands on her too, not Glory's. A blue frame came into view, his mouth a thin line, and eased her to her feet.

“C'mon, sweetspark,” Rumble said. “The boss has it from here. And that hit looks worse than it is, cross my spark.”

Rumble and Ravage led her carefully out the door, and the moment they were clear there was another crash behind her. Starscream must have hit the wall, but when she tried to turn and look, Ravage was there, nosing her towards safety.

She did see Soundwave stepping back from Starscream’s limp, battered frame, his fists splattered with energon. When she caught his wild optic, she was relieved to let Ravage and Rumble push her on, her vision blurry and her spark pounding.

She stumbled, and Rumble caught her. Updraft hadn’t thought much of these bratty cassettes, but now she could see why Glory was so devoted to them. You kept good, loyal friends close.

Maybe if Starscream had had more good, loyal friends, he would be better than he was.

“Rest a minute,” Rumble said. “TC’s coming to get you.”

“Is my carrier okay?” was the stupid question she asked. Who cared if he was okay, after that? Why had seeing him punched and flung, the same as he’d done to her, make her spark ache in dull horror?

 _Fine,_ Ravage said. _I guarantee he’s suffered worse, and for less._

“What is the _MEANING_ of all this?”

Megatron’s growling anger made her wobble again, but these little cassettes were much stronger than they let on. She couldn’t see much of him, as blue arms scooped her up and gently cradled her.

“Updraft?!” Thundercracker’s face was twisted with anxiety, but Updraft relaxed. “Oh, no, oh, no. Talk to me, sweetspark.”

“’m good,” she managed, though she was clearly not. Thundercracker pulled her closer, and she thought she heard more voices down the hall. Glory's anxious one, and Skywarp’s, deeper and soothing. Wildfire's growl.

“What the hell did he _do?_ ” she heard Swindle say. She wasn’t sure she’d ever heard the amiable mech so furious.

“Thundercracker, take her to Hook,” Megatron said. “And, Soundwave...I am surprised.”

Updraft caught a glimpse of Soundwave’s energon stained hands, wrists held out in front of him. For cuffs, she realized, because he’d assaulted a superior officer. His held was bent in deference, but his visor was bright.

“Starscream got mad,” Updraft said, as Thundercracker took off at a fast walk. “And I...I got real mad right back.”

“He deserves it,” Thundercracker said fiercely. His optics almost crackled, and she swore she could hear his spark beating in fury. “I am so, so sorry. I'm sorry, Updraft.”

Swindle was, for some reason, jogging along beside them, and his hand brushing her forehead reminded her of her sire.

“She can’t live with him any more,” he was saying, his words too fast. “I mean, I had no idea he would—”

“Later,” Thundercracker snapped. “Hook! Patient incoming.”

“I’m—what? What did you let happen to her?”

All the words were starting to become a low buzz, and Thundercracker's gentle hand stroked her helm.

“Shut up,” she said quietly. “My head hurts.”

To the Constructicon's credits, they did as they were asked. The exam table was cold, but the living metal of examining hands was warm, grounding.

“I'll bet it does,” Hook said, more gentle than she’d ever heard him. “Scrapper, get that energon off her, and I'm sure we'll only see superficial damage. Primus, she’s built soft like an Autobot…”

“She’s tiny!” she heard Rumble protest. So he’d followed them, too. “And he _kicked_ her. I'd crumple a bit, too.”

“ _Kicked her?_ ” Swindle roared. Updraft winced, and Hook rounded on the small crowd.

“Everyone but Thundercracker _OUT!”_ he snapped. “She’ll be fine, she’s just in shock. Unless you’re leaking out, don’t come back.”

They were making for the door when Megatron’s broad frame filled it. Even dizzy, visual sensors blurred and warning obscuring him, she could see his optics flaring white. Anger at what was going on? Anger at _her,_ for causing this trouble?

“Will she be well?” he asked.

“Of course, sir,” Hook said. “But I need room to work, and—”

“I was going to Starscream's quarters to inform them of something personally,” Megatron said. “After our debriefing, Shockwave immediately contacted me. Her sire is alive.”

The pain went white-hot, then burning cold in the same instant. The medical bay was silent, and only Thundercracker's hands were the same, warm against her helm.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home is in sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last proper chapter, though a rather long epilogue is coming up next week in two parts! This is a nice long one, so please enjoy! I really value your feedback and time taken on the story! Glory's world has been a fun one to visit.

Thundercracker had failed.

First, he had stuck up for Starscream when Updraft had been found alive: his trine leader's grief _had_ been real, but Thundercracker had mistaken it too readily for change. Being a caregiver himself had softened him, maybe, and made him believe that Updraft would be better off with her carrier nearby. (He should have known better, when he found out he hadn’t done any better when she was a baby.)

Second, he had let Updraft be alone with her carrier when he was in a bad mood. He could have easily followed them back to their quarters, and found an excuse to bring Updraft home with him instead. He hardly even left _Skywarp_ alone with a furious Starscream, let alone a defenseless sick sparklet.

Third, and most damning, was that he had not properly warned Updraft about what she was up against. He hadn’t _defended_ her carrier, but he had tried not to speak too poorly of him in front of the girls. One day he would be their superior, after all, but he had exchanged that forethought for Updraft’s immediate safety.

Stupid. His own trine didn’t respect Starscream, so why should his daughter? Even Megatron earned respect from his troops through action.

(Tempered with fear, yes, but most— _most_ —of the time, at least one could find a reason. Starscream was baffling, and Thundercracker had last found logic for his actions sometime in military training.)

Now he was in the medical bay with Starscream's daughter, staring at Megatron and knowing that if they’d just left Updraft on Cybertron, she might be with her sire already.

“The mech's dead,” Hook countered, looking like he’d been struck. “This one here was missing, but he—”

“—is alive,” Megatron interrupted. “I spoke to him myself. He's coming on the first spacebridge transport to see her.”

Thundercracker obviously hadn’t been holding Updraft tightly enough, when he found her out of his grasp. She slid off the table before he could react, straightened up on her knees, and turned her wild red optics onto Megatron.

“ _Updraft!_ ” Hook barked, disbelieving. “Get back up here, you’re concussed!”

The sparklet bent her helm to the floor before Thundercracker could reach down.

“Please, Lord Megatron,” she said hoarsely. “Let me go with him. I don’t want to stay here.”

Little femmes knew what they wanted, Thundercracker had learned that much over these years. Less often did they know what they needed, which in this case was a weak stasis and immediate repairs.

“You need to be tended to,” Megatron said. His voice held no indication of his feelings. “I will be discussing your fate later.”

“I’ll live in the sea before I go back to my carrier,” she said fiercely. It was the voice of someone who meant what she said, even from a frame so small and fragile.

Thundercracker scooped her back up then, and rested his hands more firmly on her shoulders when she was back on the berth.

“We won’t send you back to him,” Thundercracker said, hoping to Primus Megatron agreed.

Their leader said nothing about it, turning instead to Hook. “You will tend to the Air Commander when Updraft has been released,” Megatron said. “He’s sat through worse. Soundwave is waiting in the brig for minor work on his fists when you are through.”

He left, and Hook repaired Updraft’s damage in silence. Even the other Constructicons were relatively quiet, probably gossiping over comm about the whole awful mess. When Updraft was cleaned up, her frayed wires replaced and her dents smoothed out, Thundercracker picked her up again. She wasn’t conscious, but a light stasis wasn’t much different from recharge. Hook kept his voice low.

“Two days of rest, a few more taking it easy,” he said. “A grown mech could walk right out, but I won’t take chances.”

“No,” Thundercracker agreed. “I’ll just take her to my quarters.”

The idea that he’d take her back to a room adjacent to Starscream’s was spark curdling. Hook waved them out, the other Constructicons already murmuring out loud as the door slid shut behind Thundercracker.

“Uncle T!”

A familiar grip against his legs, and he found Glory's worried optics when he leaned over Updraft.

 “Uncle T,” she said again, her voice smaller. “Is Updraft okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, seeing Skywarp turn the corner. “She’s fine, Glory. Just has to rest a couple of days.”

“Told you,” Skywarp said, but his optics were all concern. “She’s not too warm or anything? Her vents all good?”

“Of course,” Thundercracker said, a little surprised. Skywarp was not, by nature, a worrier. “The damage was superficial. He mostly just cleaned her up.”

“Did you hear?” Glory asked. She was still half-clinging, which made walking difficult. Beside her Wildfire trotted, snorting nervously up at Glory every so often. “About her sire? Does she know?”

“Glory, let go,” Thundercracker said, almost by rote. “Yes, she heard. Now she’s going to rest.”

“Do you think he'll come here? Can I meet him?”

“He’s already on his way,” Thundercracker told her. “Now, Glory, Updraft is staying with us tonight, but she needs absolute quiet and—”

“I'll take her,” Skywarp said

Thundercracker stared at him. “You don’t have to do that.”

He shrugged, looking away. “I want to. You can answer all of Glory's questions and explain stuff, and no one will come bother me. Might as well get started doing a better job for her now, right?”

So Skywarp was feeling the same thing. It always reassured him, when he found some empathy in that lug's spark. (Usually it was Glory who brought it out.) After a moment, Thundercracker nodded. Gently he held Updraft out for Skywarp to take, reaching out to take Glory's hand instead. Wildfire looked like he had half a mind to follow them, but Glory's little hand, as always, stilled his steps.

“I'll get her in the morning, then,” Thundercracker said. “Seriously, Warp. Quiet and rest.”

“She’ll get it,” Skywarp said. “Night, Glory.”

“Night, Uncle Warp.”

They walked back to their own quarters in silence after that. It was only after Glory had settled herself on her berth and Thundercracker had taken out some filing when she spoke up.

“Did Starscream really hit her?”

Thundercracker looked up in surprise—then sighed. Wildfire growled low in his throat.

“He did,” he said. “He lost his temper, but luckily Soundwave stepped in. Even if her sire hadn’t just appeared out of the blue, we wouldn’t let her go back.”

Glory's red optics glowed bright, over her hugged knees. “My parents never hit me.”

“Neither did mine. Starscream made a mistake.”

In the end, it would be up to Megatron where Updraft’s fate lay. How much more could the sparklet really take, with all the upheavals she had had to live through?

He thought too long about it, and knew Glory got little sleep, too.

* * *

 

 

It all happened faster than Glory thought it would. They saw nothing of Starscream for a week, and Glory went to her lessons alone, while Updraft stayed with Skywarp or Thundercracker. The rest of their time was spent together, at least, talking mostly about Knock Out's arrival.

“Do you think he’ll have the same frame?” Updraft said, one of many anxious questions. “The same voice? I'm worried he’ll be just completely different. That I won’t know him.”

Glory could only hug her in return, and try to be reassuring. She didn’t know the answers, either. Wildfire seemed to help, his closeness succeeding in making them both calmer. Her bodyguard would rest his head on Updraft’s shoulder, letting her lean against him wherever they sat down somewhere.

Her friends came by. Rumble and Frenzy, the Stunts, Swindle. The latter was particularly excited to see Updraft up and about, and Glory was grateful to see him pleased and genuine. It was nice to know only she and Updraft saw his truer self.

“You tell your sire old Swindle will get back to business when he’s here,” he said, handing Updraft an enormous bag of sweetsticks. “If the humans do anything right, it’s vehicle design.”

All of Glory's friends seemed to want to ensure Updraft was okay, and especially see it for themselves. Glory thought it was surprisingly…sweet of them, when they hadn’t bonded with Updraft the way Glory had with them. Different circumstances, Thundercracker had said. Even Ravage slunk in at one point, wound around their legs, and slunk back out again, to who knew where.

As for her uncles, they seemed to think Starscream being what he was was their fault. Thundercracker looked guilty whenever he glanced Updraft’s way, and Skywarp made much of them both, sneaking them candy from his stash.

The day before Knock Out arrived, Updraft stopped Thundercracker.

“You know it’s not your fault,” she said, making Glory pause. Thundercracker stopped too, his wings held too high on his back. “Stop looking at me like you did it.”

On another day Glory might have bristled at someone speaking that way to her uncle. This time, though, she waited, until Thundercracker finally smiled. His posture relaxed.

“I just wish it hadn’t happened,” he said, gently tapping Updraft’s helm the way he did Glory's. “You’re right. Are you ready for tomorrow?”

“I guess,” Updraft said, more quietly. “I don’t know what to think of it yet.”

“It’ll work out,” Glory said, giving Updraft her most winning grin. If everyone else was going to treat Updraft like glass now, she certainly wouldn’t.

They only saw Starscream the next day, when Megatron called her uncles, Updraft, and Glory herself to the briefing room. The Air Commander was cleaned up and pristine, but looked straight ahead as they filed into the room. Glory gave him her best scowl (and stroked Wildfire’s back, so he wouldn’t do anything that would get them in trouble).

“Knock Out is arriving from the space bridge,” Megatron told them. “We will be meeting him immediately, at these coordinates.”

“Glory, too?” Skywarp asked in surprise. Glory stared at him—she had gotten this far, hadn’t she? What if Megatron changed his mind now about her going?

She _would_ go. To support Updraft, and to see this long-discussed Knock Out for herself

Megatron nodded, scowling, even as Glory’s spark eased with relief. “Glory as well,” he said, not giving an answer as to why. “In one hour, be there. Starscream and I will arrive first.”

Glory realized that that was to keep him away from Updraft, and she felt something almost like... _affection_ for their leader.

No, not affection, she decided after a moment. Admiration. He might have been the great slagmaker, but maybe sparklets aboard his ship had softened him up? Later Glory would have to experiment. Find out a solid answer.

That was how she found herself on the plateau with the adults, waiting  for Knock Out. Updraft’s hand squeezed Glory's like a vice, as the convoy's dust became visible on the horizon.

“Oh, Primus,” she whispered, loud enough for only Glory to hear. “What if it’s not really him? What if we got tricked?”

Glory just hoped her presence would be soothing, even with the dents she could feel forming on her hand.

“Trust Lord Megatron more than that,” she whispered. “It’ll be okay.”

Still, she was nervous, and so was everyone else. It wasn’t every day a loved one came back from the dead. Glory's free hand rested on Wildfire to keep him still, and next to her Thundercracker’s mouth was in a thin line. Skywarp had one hand resting on the back of Updraft's helm, but Glory couldn’t read his face, and Megatron…none of them could read a single thing about their leader's stance out here. Stern, straight-laced, not to be crossed. Even Updraft knew it well by now.

Starscream stood at Megatron’s other side, of course. Glory wouldn’t look at him.

Eventually a dust cloud appeared on the horizon, and the sound of engines was faint. Here they were.

There were four mechs in the convoy—two Seekers who shot above their heads, swooping in to land respectfully in front of Megatron, and a much bigger, slower bomber who angled in to transform and land behind them. He had a simple helm, deep green plating, and the widest wingspan Glory had ever seen. His broad shoulders almost blocked out the setting sun, and when he saw her staring, he shuttered one yellow optic in a wink.

“Geez,” Skywarp murmured. The huge mech saluted, but he looked distinctly nervous. He had probably never met Megatron before, but that wasn’t unusual. Most hadn't.

The fourth mech was a sleek red speedster, low to the ground with an alt that would have made the Stunts grind their denta in jealousy. Updraft gasped when she saw him, and Glory knew there had been no trick.

He transformed, a handsome mech with wheels on his shoulders, and looked bewilderedly at Updraft. Her fingers were digging into Glory's, but her friend held still, just staring. Knock Out caught sight of Megatron and managed to salute, but his real gaze never left his daughter.

“At ease,” Megatron said. He wasn’t actually looking at Knock Out, she realized, but at the bomber behind him. “I would be aware of a flier that size in my main force. What is your name, soldier?”

“Windjammer, sir,” the mech said. His voice was softer than Glory had expected. “I was sparked on Velocitron.”

“I see,” Megatron said. His optics glittered with interest, but Windjammer was not the matter at hand. Instead, he looked from Knock Out to the two sparklets slowly. “You are Knock Out of Vos?”

“Yes, sir,” said the mech. “At your service.”

Updraft was now pulling at Glory, but Skywarp and Thundercracker were keeping them gently in place. She could hardly blame Updraft for her desperation, when she imagined one of her own parents standing in Knock Out's place. Glory would have rushed them like a battering ram.

Megatron nodded. “You could not be found in Shockwave’s initial assessment of your whereabouts. I will get it out of the way now: are you hiding from something? Surely there is a good reason.”

Knock Out looked frightened, but no more than the usual when one stood in front of Megatron. Glory managed to glance at Starscream, who had twisted up his face in an effort not to show emotion.

“Yes,” he said. “A clerical error, in fact, when Shockwave searched the systems for me. My designation is often recorded as one word rather than two, and so the fact that I survived Simanzi was overlooked.”

He probably wasn’t lying, he spoke so smoothly. Updraft nodded beside her, like this had happened before, and Windjammer held out a datapad.

“My carrier's records since he left Cybertron,” he said. “You’ll find it all very official. Velocitron’s commander Deadlock signed off on our excursion.”

There was a ruffle of surprise through their little group, and Updraft’s optics went bright.

Carrier?

“Something of a size difference between you and your offspring,” Megatron said to Knock Out, taking the datapad. His lip twitched. “So you’ve formed a family unit.”

“Yes, sir,” Knock Out said. He straightened up, taking in another look at Updraft before going on. “I cover most repairs and modifications for the garrison on our world. I...met a local. He’s rather bigger than me.”

“You would say you’re capable of sparklet care, then,” Megatron said.

Starscream opened his mouth to say something, but Megatron’s grip on his wrist was a vice. Knock Out barely glanced his way, as if Updraft was energon for a starving mech.

“I have one more Updraft’s age at home,” he said. “Well—her age minus all that stasis. Uppercut.”

Updraft’s optics were wide, and Glory knew hers must be too. Siblings (a huge one, right here, and one on a colony), her sire, _and_ her sire’s conjux.

“You have provided the Decepticons with three new soldiers,” Megatron said. “I have waived Updraft’s illegitimate status, of course. I cannot waste troops on Vector Sigma's bureaucracy.”

“Of course,” Knock Out said, though his optics went suspicious. Glory's own optics went rounder. Illegitimate? She would have to ask her uncle about it.

 Three was a lot of sparklets for one mech to be involved in parenting, accidents or not, when the usual was one. _Maybe_ two, like her mother and Uncle T's parents had, but even that was a bit unusual. Their leader looked down at Updraft, who finally let go of Glory's aching hand.

“Go on, then,” Megatron said. “He’s come all this way.”

Updraft _launched_ herself at Knock Out, who bent down and scooped her up in an instant. He bent to rest his helm against hers and murmured something, that Glory didn’t catch but made Updraft's shoulders shake.

The big mech, Windjammer, was clearly trying to hide a smile. After a moment, Glory realized Thundercracker was, too. Skywarp, of course, grinned wide at Glory.

This was a good ending, even if her spark ached as she watched them reunite. Because she wanted it a little bit, too—but mostly because she knew where Updraft would want to go.

It could only last so long, but as Knock Out rose to his feet, Updraft stayed close against his legs. She looked like she thought he’d disappear if their physical contact was lost.

“How _nice_ ,” growled Starscream. Right away, Knock Out's expression soured.

“I notice she wasn’t near her carrier when we arrived,” Knock Out said. He flashed a quick smile at Glory as he scanned them, but his optics were still cold. “But doubtless she was well cared for here, Lord Megatron.”

Glory wished that Starscream looking ashamed was more satisfying, but it only made her spark run cold. He _should_ have felt ashamed, and way earlier than that moment.

“If I may, sir,” Thundercracker said. They all looked at him (even the two Seeker guards, who looked distinctly bored), before Megatron gave him one slow nod. Thundercracker straightened, holding his wings up higher.

“Starscream isn’t capable of raising a child,” Thundercracker said. “Recently he beat her—”

“ _What?”_ Knock Out gasped. He gave his head a little shake, but his optics were blazing. “Ah…apologies. Go on.”

Thundercracker looked away. “Updraft is a remarkable child, but she won’t thrive under his care. If Lord Megatron agrees…you came at the right time.”

Windjammer's optics had become yellow slits, trained on Starscream. Glory was used to big mechs bring angry at her, for whatever trick she’d last pulled, but she wouldn’t want to be on _this_ big mech's bad side. Clearly, neither did neither did Starscream, whose dipped wings told the whole tale.

“I do agree,” Megatron said. He had been calm since the announcement, almost…relieved, like this had solved a more ongoing problem. And if Glory was entirely honest, it had. “Starscream’s trine are capable mechs—in this regard. Young Glory is doing well under Thundercracker’s care, and Updraft is simply too cunning to become cannon fodder. But even if I were to simply upgrade her, she would still work under her carrier. And that would cause further problems until she’s matured.”

“I see,” Knock Out said carefully. “She was—is—close to that step, but in my medical opinion she would—”

“—Our medic agrees,” Megatron interrupted. “To add to that, Starscream causes enough dissent without a defiant child to deal with. Her situation is unique, so I will deal with it uniquely.”

“I have the means to care for her on Velocitron,” Knock Out said. “She’ll be a help to me in my work until upgrade. And…thank you, Lord Megatron.”

“Thank you?” their leader said, one brow quirked.

Knock Out dipped his head. “For letting me find my way back to her. It's an honour that the Decepticons have let see her face again.”

Updraft rested against her sire's arm, more relaxed than Glory had ever seen her. Still, her spark ached. They all knew what was coming.

She wished she’d had more time to get ready.

“In any other circumstances, I would not let such a valuable child leave my watch again,” Megatron said. “But, it is my own policy to keep sparklets with their family units. At least, until such time as upgrade.”

Knock Out's face fell, and he straightened his shoulders. “You wish for it to happen now, then?”

Megatron opened his mouth, but he wasn’t first to speak.

“Three years,” Updraft said.

Everyone present turned to look at her, and Updraft straightened up too. Small and proud, as fearless as she’d ever looked.

“Lord Megatron,” she said quickly, “you said you would check on my progress in three of this planet’s years. We could still do that.”

If Updraft and Glory both didn’t get in the habit, they’d find one day that speaking out of turn would get them more trouble. Glory waited in silence with the others, to see what Megatron would do. It wouldn’t be the first time he had changed his mind.

But their leader’s optics weren’t angry. Only bright, interested. “So I did,” he said. “How many Earth days left until that time comes, Updraft?”

She didn’t hesitate. “One thousand and sixty-five. I'm keeping track.”

Megatron smiled. “I trust you will continue to do so on Velocitron.”

Updraft’s face lit up, even as Glory’s spark sank lower. “I can go? Really?”

“You will,” Megatron said. Wildfire nosed Glory gently on one side, and Thundercracker’s hand rested on her other shoulder, comforting. “Now that we have established where your sire is, he can keep me abreast of your progress. And clearly,” he added, glancing again at Windjammer, “he raises fine soldiers. When will you leave?”

“We have space bridge access for an hour,” one of the Seeker guards said. “Either we stay two weeks, or take her now.”

Knock Out made a face. “Hm. I didn’t know that,” he said.

Starscream looked absolutely stricken. Thundercracker frowned too, straightening up. “Her things, sir?”

Megatron waved his hand. “Nothing she needs long term, right, Updraft?”

“No, sir,” she said. She looked at Glory, almost apologetic. “Can...I say goodbye, though?”

The Seeker guards both scowled, clearly impatient. Megatron only nodded, and Updraft let go of Knock Out's arm at his small nod. Aware she was on a time limit, she rushed towards Wildfire first. He snorted, optics dimmed and his head bent.

“Wildfire miss Updraft,” he said, voice low. “Can’t keep you safe.”

“Look at my new big brother,” she said, nodding towards Windjammer. “I’m going to be very safe. Take good care of Glory.”

Skywarp bent down then, so Updraft stepped towards him next. He rested his hands on her little shoulders, straightening her up.

“You’re a lucky kid,” he said, and his voice was a little gruff. “Real lucky. Keep doing those flying lessons.”

Updraft hugged him tight, and Glory couldn’t hear what she said into his audial.

“I have something for you,” Thundercracker said next. So Updraft went to him next. Glory leaned over to see what was on the datapad he held out, but only caught the screen flick back off and Updraft’s smile.

“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for everything. I don’t know what I would have done.”

“Study hard,” Thundercracker said. “I’m sorry I can’t send your notes along.”

Updraft probably didn’t care a klik about those notes, not then. When she finally went to Glory, her smile touched with apology, Glory didn’t wait. She jumped forward, throwing her arms around Updraft hard enough to make her squeak.

“I’m sorry your carrier's the worst,” she whispered. Updraft, in spite of everything, muffled a laugh into her shoulder. Glory sighed. “I won’t forget you, ever.”

Updraft was grinning as she pulled back, but there was coolant in the corners of her optics. “Don’t you dare. In three years I can fight, and I’ll come back to see you. Count on it.”

“It won’t be the same,” Glory said, more quietly. “I’m not ready for my upgrade yet.”

“Yeah, I know,” Updraft said. “But…I can’t stay here. It’ll be okay, Glory.”

Updraft walked halfway back to Knock Out, before she turned towards Megatron. Her little salute might have been funny to the adults, if they weren’t on such serious business. (Still, Glory caught Skywarp’s mouth twitching.)

“At ease,” said their leader. For once, he looked a little like he was at a loss. Starscream wasn’t looking at Updraft, but at the ground.

“Thank you, sir,” she said, dropping her salute. “One thousand and sixty-five days. I’ll come back and fight hard for you.”

Only then did Updraft turn to her carrier, and only then did Starscream finally look up at her.

“Goodbye, daughter,” he said stiffly. “Do try to stay alive.”

Updraft looked at him fearlessly. There really was nothing to be afraid of, not when she was surrounded by protectors and about to leave him for good. (Glory tried not to think about how one day they’d both have Seeker frames, and have to work under him.)

She spoke after a moment. “Goodbye, carrier. Sorry I didn’t work out.”

Knock Out held out his hand to her then, though his glower was white-hot in Starscream’s direction. “We’d better get going, darling.”

“No papers to sign, then?” Starscream said. He looked from Megatron to his daughter, widening his optics slightly for effect. “Just like that, he takes her back?”

“I signed them already,” Knock Out said. “Lord Megatron stated that your _actions_ forfeited your rights.”

“But I—”

“Starscream,” Megatron growled. “I will not have you fight a custody battle you will lose. We will not speak of this again.”

The Air Commander set his jaw, optics too bright and wings dipped…but said nothing. He would not win this fight, and he knew it.

Glory heard Knock Out saying something to his daughter. Windjammer had stepped over to them now, but the corner of his optic was always on Starscream. Updraft _would_ be safe with these mechs, that Glory was certain of.

“Are you willing to fly back with your brother?” she heard Knock Out asking.

Updraft nodded, and said something Glory didn’t quite catch. Knock Out smiled.

“Uppercut is your new sister,” she thought he said. “She hasn't stopped talking about you since we heard.”

When Updraft turned back to them a last time, Glory waved. She put on her biggest, most cheerful face, and was rewarded with one of Updraft’s own grins. Knock Out smiled Glory's way, and she wished she could learn more about this mech. Where had he been all those years? How had he found out so suddenly?

Would he be able to give Updraft what she needed?

Glory realized she wouldn’t get the chance to talk to him. But her last question had already been answered—Updraft was thrilled to return to him, was going somewhere safe…and three Earth years was really not that long at all. She would see Updraft again, even if it wouldn’t be the same. You couldn’t play when you were an upgraded soldier.

Windjammer picked Updraft up (sparklet antigravs weren’t exactly fast), and Glory tried not to feel how her spark ached in her chest. She wiped her optics quickly, and when she opened them the little group had gone, three planes in the sky and one dust cloud on the plateau.

They all stood in silence for a moment. Wildfire’s head rested on her shoulder, and Glory reached up to pat his nose as Megatron gave a long sigh.

“Quite an experiment,” he said. “I will have to keep up with her training. She’ll be a fine lieutenant one day.”

Starscream made a disgusted noise. Before either of his trine mates could protest, he had taken off, engines roaring as he returned to base.

Skywarp sighed too. “No more flying lessons with him, Glory. We'll take care of it.”

“You will,” Megatron said. He punched the bridge of his nose, as if this situation had made him suffer most. “Back to business, then. Thundercracker, Skywarp?”

“Sir?” they said in unison. Megatron glanced down at Glory for a moment before answering.

“You did well with the child,” he said. “I did not want her out of my sphere of influence, but it was easier on all parties.”

Glory decided that there would not be a better time to ask, so she stepped boldly forward. “Sir, can we—I—send her letters? Video stream? I'll—”

“—Miss her, yes,” Megatron said. “It’s unlikely. Long range communications are quite difficult these days, and expensive. But I'll send for her again.”

“When she’s upgraded?” Glory asked. Megatron nodded.

“We will have to see how she fares,” he said. Then he, too, had taken off, leaving her, Wildfire, and her uncles on the plateau.

“I'll miss that kid,” Skywarp sighed. “But...I’m glad she found a home.”

“It sounds like a decent place,” Thundercracker said. “Energon stores, cooperative populace…she’s even got a sibling to play with.”

Glory looked at her feet, and Thundercracker seemed to realize what he’d said. He tapped her helm with his hand, and when she looked back up he was smiling.

“I know you’ll miss her the most,” Thundercracker said. “Remember that she’s with her family, where she belongs. Like you.”

“I'll still miss her,” she said. “I wish... Knock Out could have transferred. He could have stayed.”

“I know,” Thundercracker said, more gently. “We’ll miss her, too. And, Glory, she won’t forget you. I know it.”

“Yeah,” Glory said, a little half-sparked. Velocitron was so far away, after all. Another world. “You’re right, Uncle T. Let’s go home.”

So they did.

* * *

 

 

Only one person used that frequency.

Megatron sighed, a deep, long suffering noise, and flicked the holoscreen on. The face that stared back at him was infuriatingly kind, blue optics gentle and waiting to be addressed.

“Optimus,” he growled. “I have had a disgustingly long week. Whatever flesh creature hovel my forces leveled, I do not care.”

The Prime's optics nearly twinkled, and Megatron resisted the urge to punch his screen. He’d had enough trouble from fists that week. “I am not calling about that.”

“Then get _on_ with it!” Megatron snapped. Optimus became remarkably friendly from behind a screen, probably because the coward didn’t fear for his life there. They ought to send Ravage in with a bomb next time.

“Of course,” he said. He leaned forward a fraction, like they were about to share some great secret. “I have news of great interest to the well-being of Starscream’s sparklet. I do not feel her welfare should be jeopardized by faction.”

He wouldn’t. “Well, it doesn’t matter,” Megatron said. “She’s not here any more.”

“Ah. I see.” As expected, Optimus now looked worried. “May I ask where she is now? Well, I hope.”

Megatron considered hanging up, but it would mean simply flushing more spies out of his ship sooner rather than later. “She's fine,” he said finally. “Her sire came and got her. Now get on with it, Prime.”

To his pleasure, Optimus looked surprised. And pleased, something Megatron would have to live with.

“Then it seems my information is not of use to you after all,” Prime said smoothly. “I am surprised you let her go.”

“That child brought no shortage of shocks,” Megatron sighed, the absolute last words he expected to speak in this call. “It seems your call was, indeed, useless. As is every action you attempt.”

He was about to simply hang up when—

—Wait.

How was it that Knock Out, isolated for so long on an outpost, had discovered his sparklet's fate? How would even Shockwave miss such a small clerical error as a designation misspelling?

Once again, he could blame Starscream for the root of his problems. The idiot couldn’t just _parent,_ could he? He’d had to put such a valuable asset in danger, and now…

“What matters to me is she’s in good hands,” Optimus said, his optics twinkling.

“If you,” Megatron snarled, “are responsible for sending one of _my_ sparklets to a _traitorous_ —”

“Certainly not,” Optimus said, and with fury Megatron realized he wasn’t lying. “If her sire is well, and she is no longer in a difficult situation, I am satisfied. And Velocitron is well-known for its Decepticon sympathies—and swift treatment of traitors. Goodnight, Megatron.”

He couldn’t answer, as the call cut out just then. Megatron didn’t punch his holoscreen, but he did throw one of his more useless datapads at the wall. It cracked satisfyingly, and he groaned, putting his face in his hands.

The worst thing was, it _had_ worked out for the better. Monitoring Starscream was enough work regularly, and it had been a hope that someone to care for might ebb some of his overthrowing tendencies. All Megatron had done was give him a new punching bag, and even someone off the assembly line knew not to strike a sparklet.

Well—not directly. He couldn’t be responsible for what occurred on his battlefields, but perhaps he could set a reminder for his troops. Autobot and Neutral sparklets could be re armoured, upgraded, re educated. The war had wasted so much useful life as it was.

 _Three years_ , he thought. _Three years, and I'll have a fine Seeker. Young, brave, and zealous. With any luck she’ll convince other young sparks to join her._

There was one more sparklet still under his watch, though he would have to wait longer for her. Megatron picked up a different datapad, to check her educational progress.

And smiled, when he found where Glory had highlighted her copy of Towards Peace.

_Loyalty is everything. The brotherhood of powerful mechs so long trodden on, when we have the coding to take to the skies, will chain us together and rise us up like wings on a cold current.  In peace through tyranny, we will find our place. One way or another, soldiers, we will all meet again._


	14. Epilogue Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So much can change in 20 years, even for a long-lived race. The war is over, and everyone is coming home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we're almost at the end of this little story! This epilogue actually takes place after the sequel story to Thundercracker's Glory, Glory and Honor (both by Kenya Starflight). The sequel is a really enjoyable ride too, and I've done my best to follow up on the decisions made in it without totally confusing people just reading here.
> 
> One more epilogue half to go after this. Thanks so much for reading and commenting, as always!!

“Incoming, Air Commander,” said Windstorm.

Glory looked up from her console. The Sweep—no, Windstorm of Kaon, he was a Sweep no longer—at monitor duty pointed one slender finger at the shuttle on the landing pad's screen. Glory narrowed her optics.

“Not one I recognize,” she said.

“Security breach?” Windstorm asked. His hand hovered over the alarm button, but in time Glory saw the Decepticon symbol on the shuttle's front, stamped neatly where it was supposed to be.

The console beeped. Glory relaxed a fraction, and shook her head.

“They've asked permission to land, and transmitted on Decepticon codes,” she said. “Caution is better.”

Windstorm was one of the Sweeps who had changed his frame (new helm, new wings, no mustache), and had named himself within Glory’s new armada. She hadn’t requested they do so (or, more importantly, commanded it), but so many mechs without their own identities made it feel like she led squadrons of drones. So the option had been given. Many had taken it, which pleased Glory—but she’d honoured the requests to go by serial numbers, or to keep their old frames. It wasn’t up to her how they decided to be themselves, after all.

“Yes, ma'am,” Windstorm said. “To be honest, caution is something I’m still getting used to.”

“You’ll have to,” Glory said, sending back a quick comm. _Designations and purpose, Decepticons._ “This is peacetime now, and the defensive is best. So far this shuttle has checked out, and…”

She paused. A message had been returned promptly, but of course it couldn’t be right. She refreshed it, but there they were, the glyphs clear and obvious.

_Updraft of Vos, Seeker, and Uppercut of Velocitron, physician. We have chosen to come home._

“Ma’am?” Windstorm asked. Glory came back to herself. Without Scourge, the Sweeps seemed to feel safer in showing a little personality to their new commander. Especially when they realized she wasn’t in the habit of physical violence, or sudden outbursts. Windstorm was—earnest, saying what he thought, and they were working with his squad leader on channeling that impulse productively.

“It’s alright,” she said. “Caution, like I said. I just know one of them.”

_Please land, and state your names to the mech on call. An officer will meet you._

That officer would be her, because it had been two busy decades since she had seen or heard from Updraft of Vos. Not long in the grand scheme of things (Blitzwing would have laughed if she’d told him twenty Earth years was _long_ ), but she was young, too. Too young, some said, to do this job.

“I’m meeting them personally,” she said. “Apologies for leaving you alone, but it’s important.”

“Firebrand is on call, I think, I’ll just get her,” Windstorm said. “You’re, ah, alright, Commander? Your optics are looking bright.”

Starscream would have struck a subordinate who spoke so personally to him. Glory course honestly say she didn’t know what Scourge would have done, but she only nodded.

“I’m very well,” she said. “Thank you, Windstorm.”

She was flying the moment she was off the balcony, at an anxious clip towards the landing pads. It was faster, and her thrusters warm from flying calmed her flashing spark.

Maybe Updraft had grown into a bot Glory would no longer want to spend time with. More like her carrier, and it would turn out who you were was in the spark after all.

Or maybe she had had an upgrade gone bad, and that was why a physician was travelling with her. Maybe her self-repair problems had gotten worse instead of better.

She would almost certainly be in her upgrade by now. Glory wouldn’t recognize her, and Updraft certainly wouldn’t recognize _her._

Ha. She’d been a bit of a pest, hadn’t she? Following the older (smaller) sparklet around the base, trying to do what she did in lessons, and sometimes saying rude things she didn’t really mean. She had just been so excited to have a friend, even for such a brief few months, and she had done her damnedest to make her time on the _Nemesis_ happier.

Starscream had made it no easy task.

The shuttle had landed when she got there, its doors open, but one of her other mechs was standing firmly in its doorway. Acid Storm, she realized grimly. A mech as old as her uncle (well, had he lived up to then), and one of the Seekers most likely to scoff at her authority. Funny how the Sweeps and young mechs were so willing to accept her, and mechs of her frame type were so likely to scoff.

“We don’t accept the offspring of traitors,” Acid Storm was saying. Glory suppressed her sigh just in time.

“Stand aside, Acid Storm,” she said firmly. “To our new arrivals, you can come out.”

Acid Storm stared at her, optics bright with scorn. “Ma’am—"

Glory didn’t realize how withering her look was until he stepped aside—and straightened up and stared straight ahead, like it was inspection day.

“Save your zeal for the Quintessons,” she said. “ _All_ Decepticons are welcome, including those from colony worlds.”

Acid Storm did grumble as he stepped back, but Glory did nothing about it. Just filed it away for the next time he acted up.

The first bot who stepped out was not Updraft. A big, broad-shouldered femme with red crosses on her shoulders, six wheels on her frame and red optics. Uppercut, then, the physician. Weren’t Velocitronians supposed to be a bunch of sleek racers? Still, she had clear Decepticon sigils, and a gentle face. There would have to be screening, but Uppercut flashed Glory a shy smile, stepping lightly down from the shuttle. She liked her right away.

The second femme she had never _seen,_ not in this frame. But she knew her.

A Seeker, for sure, with the right wings, and vents, and frame type. But Glory remembered as she stepped out that Updraft’s sire had been in mods, and the word _designed_ crossed her mind. This was a small, sleek frame, compact, with the hard edges curved over and the fearsome parts rounded off. If Glory hadn’t seen the seams where blasters were hidden, she would have wondered what this frame would be doing on the battlefield at all.

Updraft’s thrusters, though, were not shabby. She would be powerful in the sky, and already Glory imagined them replaying their old races above Kaon. Updraft's red paint had been made deeper, gold accenting her wings and joints. Her face and hands were still dark, her red optics snapping with whatever was on her mind.

And when she caught sight of Glory, she started, and smiled wide. And she knew for sure Updraft couldn’t have changed that much.

“Glory?” she said, in an adult’s voice. The shuttle door closed behind her, but Glory hardly heard it. She stepped forward, wings up high and her vents cycling in delight.

“Long time no see,” Glory said. “Well, for young bots like us.”

“Primus,” Updraft said. Off the shuttle ramp, Glory realized she was a good head taller than her old friend. “You’re in your upgrade? You’re beautiful! Look at you!”

Glory's faceplates went hot. The doctor, Uppercut, was grinning, and she tried to be composed. _Beautiful_ wasn’t on her general list of good qualities, even if it was objectively true. (It couldn’t be vain to admit it, especially now that Hook had had time to trim some of her less fitted plating and repaint her.) Blitzwing called her a lot of very sweet things, but Glory didn’t think his optics had a setting for “beautiful.”

(Swift sure tried to find it, pulling him to roadsides to look at baby glitch mice, or crystals, or to decorated shop windows. It was the cutest thing to probably ever happen in Kaon.)

She didn’t have time to answer, thanks to Acid Storm. “Excuse me,” he snapped, “but that’s no way to speak to your Air Commander, Seeker.”

Updraft’s jaw dropped, and her companion raised a brow. Of course when he could be puffed up and rude, the mech tried to inject his words with respect.

“That’s quite enough, Acid Storm,” she said sharply. “I did make the schedule for this week, and I believe you have a patrol coming up? Why don’t you get to it early, and I take it from here?”

Acid Storm stared at her for a moment, obviously disgusted at someone he thought a child giving him orders. Still, he had to obey them, and quickly. Shockwave liked her, and didn’t tolerate the Seeker fools of her armada lightly.

When he took off, Glory relaxed. She grinned, and Updraft relaxed too. Just like she hoped.

“Your smile is the same,” Updraft said. “You can tell it from a mile away. But I didn’t think you’d be…well, Air Commander. Or _upgraded_.”

Glory smiled, looking away for just a moment. Really, she shouldn’t have been either of those things—if her uncles were alive, they wouldn’t have allowed it (or, if she was honest, have let her end up on Chaar).

“I’ll tell you all about it, once the important stuff's out of the way,” Glory said. “What are you doing here? Now?”

“Cybertron’s safe again,” Updraft said. She reached out for Glory's hand, and she took it quickly. It was small in hers, dainty, even. “And, honestly, Velocitron's not built for jets. We were always going to come back.”

“It’s not built for mechs like me, either, but it forges them anyway,” the other bot said. Her soft voice felt at odds with her big frame. “Glory—Air Commander—it’s good to finally meet you. Draft's told us so much.”

Now she felt real surprise. She had really made an impression, then, despite their short time together, and she felt a little guilty about not thinking of Updraft more often. There had been times on Chaar that she was glad she wasn’t there too, but the world had been busy. Frightening.

“This is my sister,” Updraft said, gesturing to the big mech. “Uppercut. But we sent the transmission already, so you knew that.”

“We share a sire,” Uppercut said cheerfully, as Glory reset her optics in surprise. “And a creation day, coincidentally. I know we don’t look it.”

“She takes after Breakdown,” Updraft said, and Glory stared at her. Breakdown was off duty, probably messing around with his brothers. Or napping. Updraft saw the look on her face, and grinned.

“Some mechs have the same name,” she said, and Glory wondered how she had never thought about that before. “Though he _is_ also kind of big and blue. Not really anxious.”

“Better not to be the latter,” Glory said, grinning. “You only identified the two of you on your shuttle, though…”

“Oh, Dad wanted to properly close up shop first,” Uppercut said. “But us two can get everything ready here.”

“I didn’t want to wait,” Updraft said, smiling more softly. “This _is_ home.”

“Yes,” Glory agreed firmly. “We’re working on making it one again.”

Updraft touched her sister’s arm (that connection might be hard to believe for awhile), and gestured with her other one to the shuttle. “We’d better check this old thing in, so we can get settled.”

Uppercut grinned. “I think you should catch up with your friend,” she said. “If the Commander has time, anyway. I'm better at paperwork than you.”

“Windjammer's better than both of us, but of course he didn’t come,” Updraft said, grinning. “You sure, Cutter?”

“I have time to catch up,” Glory said. “Well—I ll make the time. There’s things I have to tell Updraft.”

She hadn’t meant to look serious, but Uppercut caught her optic and nodded. She smiled again quickly, resting one hand on Updraft's sleek shoulder.

“I’ll check this thing in and see about quarters, then?” she said. “Maybe even look into what’s needed, medically. I’m here to help.”

“Oh, everything,” Glory said. “Soundwave is in, I think. His offices are close, and he'll have everything ready for you by now.”

“Soundwave himself?” Uppercut said, impressed. “I’m not that important, but I appreciate it.”

Glory flicked her wings, and grinned. “We’re terribly short on doctors. You’re exactly who we need—and Updraft is a Seeker, another asset.”

_And Starscream’s daughter, to be watched,_ she thought. Glory would trust her immediately, and she knew Soundwave likely would, too. More likely he would watch Updraft to keep _her_ safe, not the other way around.

“Go on,” Uppercut said. “I’ll comm you when we have somewhere to recharge. It was a pleasure meeting you, Commander.”

“Just Glory is fine,” she said quickly. “Outside of professional settings. Updraft, walk with me to the balconies?”

Her old friend fell into step beside her, long strides belying a mech used to keeping up with longer legs. Glory watched her carefully, but her optics were bright, her steps sure. At first glance, she didn’t seem sick.

“My sister specializes in sparks,” Updraft said. “Carriage and newsparks are her main work, but she’s helped forged mechs online too.”

“She might be the second person we have with a real medical license,” Glory said in surprise. She was embarrassed to admit she had never heard of a sparkologist. “Flatline is the other one, but I try and see Hook.”

She just didn’t trust a mech whose name was what you called a dead spark. From the face Updraft made, it looked like she agreed.

“I know Cutter’s named after a punch, but she’s gentle,” Updraft said. “Good for what she does. But no one bothers you when you’re that size.”

“Oh, someone will,” Glory said. “She should just be prepared. Not everyone deals as well with peace as others.”

Updraft grinned. “Well, I hope they like being launched. It’s a sight to see.”

Her smile was the same, but there was so much more liveliness to her now. Updraft’s grief had ebbed, and she had obviously been well cared for on Velocitron. Glory's spark eased with relief that they had made the right choice after all—especially after all they had been through.

She rested a hand on Updraft’s arm. There _were_ things to tell her, things she probably hadn’t heard once the planet was cut off and the main forces were banished. Death records were still closed, unless you had been a major player. She dreaded being the one.

But who else was left to do it?

“I can tell from your face you have bad news,” Updraft said after a moment. “You should get it out of the way, and it won’t be between us.”

Glory's tanks ached, and she walked a fraction slower. Really, by now she could have taken off, but it wasn’t ideal to speak in the air.

“It’s been…really hard,” she said finally. “We lost the war, and the planet. I’m in my upgrade by necessity, because under Galvatron I just wasn’t safe.”

Updraft brushed her shoulder with her own. How easily they’d fallen back into step, like they were back on Earth and the only two sparklets around.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “We knew it was bad, but not…the extent. Just enough that Knock Out put off taking us back to Cybertron.”

Gloey glanced over in surprise. “You were going to come back earlier?”

“Only Knock Out really fits in there, and he’s not even a colonist,” Updraft said, grinning for a moment. “Our older brother—my sire carried him—is a bomber jet, remember him? Huge. And Breakdown and Uppercut aren’t racers. There’s nothing there for us except safety.”

“Well, I'm glad you were safe,” Glory said. “We weren’t so lucky here. Do you know about…anything, that happened here?”

Updraft seemed to know what she was asking, and she nodded. “I know Starscream is dead,” she said quietly. “I don’t know…how to feel about it, not fully, but I knew. I know about Megatron and Galvatron, and not much else.”

“Okay,” Glory said. “Then that’s one thing. Be prepared for some mistrust, by the way. Acid Storm is rude on principle, but there will be mechs who think you’re like your carrier.”

“I’ll just have to prove them wrong,” Updraft said. “In any case, I’ll answer to you.”

“Myself and Shockwave, yes,” Glory said. She was still stepping around the deaths she _actually_ had to break to Updraft, but it would be no easier to talk about them as any other time. “And Soundwave, but he tends to handle the administration.”

“We'll manage,” Updraft said. “And I don’t mind answering to you. I just want to know how it was _you_ became Air Commander. It’s impressive, Glory.”

“Well,” Glory said quietly. “Not many people left willing to do it, to be honest. That’s what I have to tell you, it’s—Thundercracker and Skywarp. They’re dead.”

Decepticons didn’t generally say things like “went to the Well” or “passed away.” When Glory had to talk to Swift about the subject, she never dallied around the issue—like she was doing right then. It hurt, and it _sucked_ , and you had to face it like a soldier.

For several steps, Updraft was silent. Her face was a mask, and Glory couldn’t think of what she would say next.

Finally she let out a long, shaking sigh, and her wings drooped lower.

“I hoped they could see who I’ve become,” she said quietly. “But that’s just selfish, really. I'm sorry you lost them, Glory. They were your family.”

“It was decades ago now,” Glory said. “It...it still hurts. But I'm trying to make them proud.”

Updraft managed a smile at that. “There’s no way you couldn’t, with that title. And this city is growing so fast.”

“We’ve got control of the southern hemisphere now,” Glory said. “The first five cities, plus Polyhex and others. Visas are required for travel to the north, but we’ve started sending squadrons on their request. Quintesson slavers are active again near the moons.”

“So not quite as safe as they claim,” Updraft mused. “But you’re trying to take us back to how it was, in a way. Us defending the planet, the Autobots running other things.”

“In a way,” Glory said, grateful for the conversation to be away from death. “We govern separately, but delegations go between us more and more. Aggression towards Autobots is a serious offense, but it’s not always easy to direct warrior tendencies.” She sighed, gesturing to nothing in particular. “The Autobots are hoping we can all be Cybertronians one day, but I don’t know. Maybe not while Optimus is Prime.”

There _were_ Autobots she liked, though she was loathe to admit it, and a few others liked by the other officers. (Soundwave thought no one could see him seeking out Delegate Cosmos for energon breaks, but he was wrong.) Updraft had her head tilted slightly, hearing all this with apparently great interest.

“Most Velocitronians are neutral,” she said. “As long as they could race, a Decepticon government wasn’t a huge concern. I’m used to rubbing shoulders with others.”

“You won’t have to that often,” Glory said. They were finally at the flight balconies, new and gleaming and meant to keep mechs forming some kind of flight traffic. Still, there were training grounds and no shortage of open space near Kaon. “Here we are. My wings itch, so I’m ready when you are.”

Updraft looked out at the wide, empty bays, without railings and perfect for taking off and falling just long enough for a thrill. Very Vosian in design, and impressive.

“Let’s see you soar, Air Commander,” she said, and gestured towards the air.

Glory didn’t make her wait. She leaped, transformed, and let her thrusters roar her forward to her second home. She didn’t speed up too quickly—Updraft hadn't mentioned her illness, but she wanted to be certain she wouldn’t be overtaxed by this.

She shouldn’t have worried. She had barely straightened out when a red-and-gold blur blazed past her, thrusters roaring and banking upwards in a graceful turn. A comm request came through the moment she passed, and Glory quickly took it.

_That’s quite a top speed_ , she said, already racing to catch up. They twisted downwards in relative unison then, out towards the undeveloped areas and well away from traffic.

_No shortage of reasons to be small, honestly,_ Updraft replied, turning on a hairpin to soar back under Glory. _I did get lucky._

_That's very clear!_

Updraft seemed to realize that it was taxing Glory to keep up, and slowed her pace. There was room for improvement, probably the result of not getting to fly with other Seekers. But Glory wouldn't be beating her in a race. For a self-taught Seeker, she was _good._

_You should probably know I’m in remission,_ Updraft said. _I got lucky there, too. There’s no real sign of my illness since upgrade._

To celebrate that, Glory sped up again, her thrusters roaring, and Updraft caught on to the cue. It would probably only take a couple of weeks for her to be one of the finest fliers here. And it would be a pleasure to fly with someone whose company she actually enjoyed. (Blitzwing, for all she loved him, had no finesse.)

They swerved, dodged, spun, and glided their way across the old Kaon plain. This had been a border area once, against Helex, but now Helex was part of their territory, and it was unsafe for rollers to travel through it. Soundwave was working on making the shuttle service more reliable, but it felt unique, to have a place only her squadrons could cross. The two of them flew in silence after awhile, simply imitating each other’s movements in a dance only Seekers knew.

Eventually, Glory turned toward home. Her plating was warm with exertion, condensation forming on her plating as she left high altitude and transformed. Updraft was right behind, landing neatly on three points. She was smiling now, optics bright with her exertion.

“Makes me think of when we’d fly above the ocean,” she said. “Splashing each other and chasing Skywarp around.”

Glory's smile was sad. How had things felt so easy those nights, even when they weren’t? “We’d beg to fly whenever he and Uncle T had free time.”

Updraft looked away then, resting on small hand on Glory's elbow. “They would have loved flying over that plain with us,” she said quietly. “I was…yeah. I kept thinking what I’d say to them.”

For a moment, they just stood there in the cool air, and Glory didn’t mention it when Updraft leaned gently on her elbow.

“Let’s go back,” Glory said finally. “I can make sure you and your sister are settled.”

Quickly, Updraft wiped coolant from her optics. “Thanks,” she said finally. “I’m glad I have a friend here.”

They walked a little more slowly back to the main base. It was companionable silence, and Glory was sure Updraft was still thinking about Thundercracker and Skywarp. Starscream, too, and the trine that had once been so strong.

The day was winding down, and Glory hadn’t expected anyone but the guards to still be about. So the main foyer of the base, ablaze with light, made her suspicious.

Right away, Updraft was tense. Glory didn’t blame her, when something else rustled on the edge of her spark. She had formed a good instinct in these twenty years.

Shockwave stood in the middle, a respectful distance between him and his subordinates. Uppercut stood nearest, and Glory saw that she was biting her lip in anger. Soundwave was nearby, looking as close as he could get to apologetic.

And before them was smug Acid Storm, standing with his own trine and Thrust's. They all looked smug, and Glory prayed for the strength not to want to punch her own subordinates.

“Air Commander,” Shockwave said. Always respectful, always just on the edge of unsettling. “Updraft of Vos.”

Glory rested her hand on Updraft’s arm before her flashing optics could become harsh words. She was fairly certain she could tread light and prevent a problem. Fairly.

If not, at least she was sure Updraft flew fast.

“Quite a welcome for our new arrivals, sir,” Glory said. “Wouldn’t we have raised the alarm on violence or record discrepancies?”

“We would have, and there have been neither,” Shockwave acknowledged. “Uppercut has provided us with her records. Soundwave has found her very qualified. Updraft…”

“Updraft is a traitor's daughter,” Thrust said. He was smug, a look he didn’t wear well. “We, your Seekers, will not fly with her. Not the ones standing here.”

“Well, that’s six of you,” Glory said dryly. “Shockwave, I'm a little disappointed. You’re not one for dramatics.”

Their leader sighed, touching his hand to his forehelm as if he had a nasal ridge. “They have lodged an official complaint, Commander. And gathered a number of mechs here.”

Most of those mechs either weren’t fliers, or weren’t a part of her elite corps anyway. Glory certainly wouldn’t _discount_ how they were feeling, but they weren’t her mechs. These six were, and they had all known Starscream.

Glory glanced to her side. In Updraft’s raised wings and wide optics, almost white, and saw all she needed.

“I’ll let Updraft speak for herself,” she said, stepping aside. (But not too far. She might have to move fast.) “I will tell you, she’s an outstanding flier. An asset.”

“I understand that Updraft was very young when she left her carrier,” Shockwave said. “But you understand, Commander, the reason in treading carefully.”

“I only lived with my carrier for a short time,” Updraft said. She finally stepped forward, and surveyed the gathered Decepticons coolly. She had gotten better under pressure, too. “Shockwave, sir. I'm very disappointed to hear that his sins are being sent along to me.”

“How do we know what you’re like?” Thrust said. “Maybe you’re here to take leadership and cause upheaval, again. We’ve all had enough.”

“Thrust, you lived on the _Nemesis_ while I did,” Updraft snapped. She was tiny, and Thrust was actually near grinning. Glory almost hoped he would cross Updraft, and see what she could do. “Starscream treated me like a _thing._ When I wasn’t a good enough _thing_ , he treated me like garbage. Why would I want to be like him?”

Clearly, no one had an answer, so Updraft went on quickly. “We all know where he ended up. I want to live here, on our home. Just like any of you. I'd be happy to get to know _any_ of you, actually, so you can see I'm not like him.”

“I’ll vouch for her,” Glory said, stepping forward. Shockwave's optic had gone brighter with interest. “And if Soundwave is amiable, he can monitor us and ensure she's settled in well. Like any new arrival.”

Updraft tilted her head, wisely, in their leader's direction. “Commander Shockwave, I'm happy to pledge loyalty to you. And the Cause. I hope my future doings on this base are more welcome.”

“Mine too,” Uppercut said. At her full height, chin tipped up, she was a bit taller than Shockwave and far broader. “I’ve been told more than once today how badly doctors are needed. But I'm not willing to stay where Updraft can't.”

“And the cause?” Shockwave said carefully. Uppercut straightened up, her optics bright.

“Of course I'm happy to serve the cause,” she said. “There’s no sparkologist here, and the Decepticons need to multiply. But...I’d be disappointed if this cause was so rooted in judgment. Updraft’s merit is not her carrier's.”

Shockwave inclined his head, because of course it was logical. If Uppercut already knew how best to convince Shockwave of a position, then she’d do well here. Their leader respected medics—provided he was respected in turn—and tended to give them freedom to do what they needed.

“Soundwave,” he said. “What do you think of this?”

Glory remembered how long mechs had sidestepped Soundwave after his time with Galvatron. It had taken some longer than others to realize that he had done his very best from the inside for the Decepticons. Some still hadn’t figured it out.

Soundwave gave Updraft a long look, like he was appraising her. Rumble and Frenzy stood at his side, looking from Updraft to Uppercut to their boss a little theatrically, before Soundwave finally straightened up.

“She never liked him,” Soundwave said. His natural deep voice, not modulated, was still a surprise, and Glory watched Updraft’s optics widen. “I’m doubtful she would try to be like him.”

“You can’t dictate this stuff by age,” Thrust snapped, before Updraft could look too relieved. “Everyone on Chaar saw Glory try to overthrow Cyclonus. Traitors know no age.”

Of course, that was it. Her energon burned too hot to keep silent after that.

“I recall it was Scrapper and myself who bore the brunt of that,” Hook called, before Glory could reply. There was a murmur among the gathered Decepticons. “Glory was the only one with the bearings to try and take Galvatron down, too. Neutralizing a bad leader is not the same thing as overthrowing a real one.”

Updraft and Uppercut were both staring at her in disbelief. Glory could hardly blame them, but an explanation would have to wait.

“This is hardly relevant,” she said. “What we did to save the Decepticons twenty years ago is nothing like what you’re accusing Updraft of having in her CNA. I vouch for her completely... and it’s Shockwave’s decision.”

Apparently Shockwave had uncovered a little flair for the dramatic, because he waited a beat before he answered her. Thrust looked at their leader rather nervously, having realized the stupid thing he’d said about his Air Commander.

Their leader’s single yellow optic settled on Updraft for a moment. Then he straightened up.

“She stays,” Shockwave said. There was a murmur among the assembled mechs, and Uppercut's shoulders relaxed with relief. Glory knew her wings did too, and she reached out to quickly squeeze Updraft's hand.

Her friend stiffened, but a comm crackled through. _Thank you._

“Now,” Shockwave said. “You’re all dismissed. The night shifts are about to begin.”

It was easy to get to Uppercut in the milling crowd, a head above most of the mechs. She looked exhausted, and one hand touched Updraft’s shoulder in affection.

“Not a great start,” she said quietly. Glory nodded, her mouth in a line.

“I know,” she said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think the suspicion would be that…intense.”

Updraft shrugged, like none of it had mattered at all. Of course, the darkness in her optics said otherwise. Glory's spark ached for her, to have come home to such a turmoil.

“I got us a room,” Uppercut said. “We’ll have to share for now, like home.”

“Oh, I don’t mind that,” Updraft said. “In fact, I'll feel a little better about it now that I know—”

“Mama!”

Glory grinned at the familiar voice, spark softening in an instant. Swift waved at her from her perch on Blitzwing's shoulders, and was already starting to climb down before she was lifted, safely, to the ground. The little femme rushed halfway to Glory’s legs before she saw the two strangers, and paused.

Blitzwing always looked a little shellshocked around Swift. Even after two decades of living with her, taking her places, and looking after her needs when Glory was busy…he still acted a little like parenting simply happened to him rather than being a role he was in.

Updraft was looking around (probably for whoever she thought “Mama” would be) but Uppercut had worked it out already. She started, but her optics only narrowed for a moment before she put on a friendly face.

Well, Glory was used to that reaction too, and it was considerably more benign than what Updraft had just experienced.

“Swift,” she said, bending down to the little femme's level, “This new Seeker is Updraft. We were friends when we were sparklets. The bigger bot is Uppercut, and she’s a spark doctor.”

Swift leaned past Glory, giving the two of them a long look before deciding she trusted Glory's judgement. She nodded, but said nothing else.

“You talked the whole half mile,” Blitzwing said, his lip twitching. “Got anything for them?”

Glory stood back up, but Swift stayed close to her legs. “Hi,” she said, much more quietly.

Updraft shuttered one optic in a wink, and Uppercut’s expression went soft. “It’s very nice to meet you, Swift. And who's the mech who brought you over?”

“Blitzwing,” her conjux said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Doctor. Updraft.”

“Been awhile,” Updraft said, looking him up and down. The look she gave Glory almost made her laugh out loud—the very same disbelief every Decepticon from Chaar had given them. Swindle still managed it from time to time, but Glory didn’t care.

Blitzwing nodded, looking charmingly uncomfortable. “Yeah,” he said. “We caught the end of that little pow-wow. Glory’s late home.”

She was, she realized. Updraft’s arrival and the subsequent drama had taken her attention completely off the time—and she’d forgotten to answer Blitzwing’s comm, sitting neatly in her inbox.

“I took Swift in after the war,” Glory said, feeling her daughter’s little hand close around her fingers. “She’s the last of Shockwave’s academy sparklets.”

Uppercut looked relieved to hear that, and Glory tried not to bristle at the implication. Surely Uppercut meant well, and just hadn't seen yet that things were just fine. They were the most normal thing in her life, if she was entirely honest.

“Why don’t you walk back with us?” Glory asked Updraft. “The residences are all in the same few buildings right now.”

“They’ll need about three times the number of Constructicons to go any faster,” Blitzwing said, on the edge of a grumble. (Glory knew why—they shared a wall with a number of single mechs, who played music Glory quite liked and who didn’t hesitate to invite their Air Commander to parties. Blitzwing, being old, couldn’t stand them, and Glory never hesitated to tease him about it.)

“I’d like that,” Updraft said. “You can tell us all about how this happened. And maybe Swift can tell me who mixed that lovely colour she’s wearing.”

“We got it from a swatch!” Swift said, beaming. “Some Autobot made it up.”

“Tracks, I think,” Glory said, smiling. “Come on, little one. There’s plenty of time to tell Updraft all about it.”

They would be a funny looking little group, walking home after that fiasco…but with Swift’s hand in hers, Glory always felt warm. When Swindle was back from Helex he’d be thrilled to see Updraft, and Blitzwing's cold veneer was starting to crack after time spent around Swift. If she could tolerate Astrotrain with a key to her apartment, Blitzwing could handle Updraft and her sister.

Glory slipped her free arm through Updraft’s as they started, and got a smile in return. She would know best of all that you could never have too many sisters.

 


	15. Epilogue Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glory and Updraft ring in a new year, and a new Cybertron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is the end!
> 
> This was a funny little story that I wrote on a whim--but I'm glad I did, after getting to play with Glory for 50,000 words, and letting Updraft find footing in yet another universe! Thank you again to Kenya Starflight for this very fun sandbox!
> 
> And thank you to all the readers who clicked, and gave this little story a chance. It was fun!

Glory had opposed the Autobot delegation being there for the holiday. When she had found out Optimus Prime would be joining them in Kaon, she had _vehemently_ opposed, and begged Shockwave to reconsider.

But this was an anniversary of their real peace, and to deny the delegation would mean extra weeks of wasted time in talks and arguments. Soundwave had agreed, voting Glory out, but they all knew that was because of Cosmos. (Seriously, she couldn’t have guessed little Autobot spacecraft would be his type, but here they were.)

Glory tried not to sulk too much. There was much to be done before the celebration, from the boring planning with the officers to the fun things at home. It was hard to be furious about Optimus Prime when Swift's optics shone so brightly at the lights.

After all, the Advent of Primus was no small holiday. It only happened once a vorn, not over the shorter cycles like New Year’s, and Glory herself had only experienced one when she was very young.

“It's a real party,” Updraft assured her. She had lived through a number of them on Cybertron, and even Velocitron had enjoyed a variant. But Updraft and Uppercut were distracted, and for good reason: Knock Out was coming home.

Knock Out, Breakdown (a different Breakdown), and Windjammer, the older brother Glory had seen once so long ago. They had sold their mod shop and were en route already, apparently eager to region their family in time for the Advent. Glory could hardly blame them.

“They’ll need a bigger place,” Blitzwing observed. By now Glory was fairly certain he liked her friends, but he would never say it out loud. “They’re finally finishing that west building. We could move, too.”

“Oh, I've got enough to worry about,” Glory said. “This one is plenty.”

“You’re entitled to much more, as Air Commander,” Blitzwing pointed out. He was leaning in their doorway, an admittedly small one he could fill easily. “Nothing wrong with taking what we’re due.”

“Astrotrain really doesn’t need his own room.”

His grumble made her grin, and from her spot on the floor Swift giggled. As Blitzwing went on to the next room, still grousing, the sparklet tapped Glory's ankle.

“You don’t have to worry so much about everything, Mama,” she said. “Rumble said Advent of Primus is for clearing the whole vorn's worries.”

Glory couldn’t help but smile a little. “You’re very sweet,” she told her. “But the Air Commander has to worry about a lot, even then.”

Swift thought for a moment, before frowning. She returned to her datapad game. “I won’t be Air Commander, ever. I hate worrying.”

Well, good for Swift. She’d be a hundred times better off than Glory had been, able to make any decision about what she wanted to be.

Updraft’s family landed on a blustery day. They’d thought about taking Swift to the landing pad, but the winds were hard enough that Glory left her with Blitzwing and the space heater instead. Knock Out's shuttle looked less worse for wear than Updraft’s had, but the wind and dust in the air would change that soon.

Breakdown was the first mech out, and the resemblance to Glory’s own Stunticon friend was uncanny. She almost smiled, and wished she'd invited the Stunts after all. Except, of course, that he was twice _her_ Breakdown's other size, and clearly turned into something too big to race in. He winced at the cold wind, jumping down from the shuttle steps with a soft _thump_ , but right away he’d caught sight of his daughter. His face lit up, like they’d been parted for a hundred years rather than just several months. The resemblance between carrier and sparklet was rather uncanny, too.

Uppercut clearly had no qualms about affection—she rushed forward, throwing her big arms around her carrier’s shoulders. Behind them, Knock Out was stepping down more gingerly, and he hadn’t changed much. If anything, he’d just gotten an even sleeker alt mode (it looked Earth-based to Glory), and now wore something of a scowl.

“Oh, this wind!” he groused. “And Primus knows I haven’t polished properly since we left…Updraft! Uppercut! Come and see your sire, darlings.”

Apparently there was one thing he loved more than his finish, because the instant his daughters were in front of him, he seemed to warm. Updraft was grinning from audial to audial, and she was on his arm in an instant. Windjammer was last, and he could sling an arm around his carrier and sister easily. The other one rested on Breakdown's shoulder, and Glory saw the landing pad attendants step back in surprise at his bulk. That reaction would probably never fail to be fun (for her, at least).

These reunions were so rare, after these years of war and so many scattered. Glory loved the ones that could just end up happy.

“Welcome home,” Updraft said to Knock Out. Glory realized she looked truly relaxed, the same as that day on the plateau when she’d left Earth for good.

Knock Out's optics fell on Glory then, and he brightened instantly with interest. Only then did he ease his way out of the embrace, looking her up and down as he stepped forward.

“You must be Updraft’s old friend, then,” he said. “I didn’t expect you to be grown when I next saw you.”

“She’s my Air Commander,” Updraft said proudly. “And a good one, too.”

“You must be so _young_ ,” Knock Out marveled. “Hmph. Must be the only way to you have the energy for that job. A lovely finish and colour on you, too. Who did it?”

“Leave her, doc,” Breakdown said. He was grinning too, like this was typical. “Kid's probably busy.”

“It was Hook,” Glory said. “And it’s fine, I’m checking you all in. I’ve heard so much from Updraft and Uppercut that I had to meet you for myself.”

They were a cheerful bunch when they were all together, even unloading boxes in the wind. Windjammer's load looked four times Updraft's weight, and she noticed that he and Breakdown took anything that might scratch an unsuspecting polish more easily. Knock Out was starting seem a little torn at delight over his daughters…and absolute apoplexy over his paint.

“I certainly hope New Kaon isn’t like this all the time,” he said as they started off. They would have to walk with the boxes, at least as far as the main base. “With all due respect, Air Commander, ma'am.”

He had a tone with her a little like Stormrunner's, her old commander—respectful of her title, but still an adult, fussing mech feeling they were talking to a child. Glory decided he meant nothing by it.

“Just a bit of bad weather,” she said. “I think Mixmaster's actually working on something that’s dust storm resistant—”

“Oh, not _that_ mech,” Knock Out groaned, giving a dramatic shudder. “He worked in my field before the combiner project, you know. Not right in the head.”

Glory happened to agree, but she tried to put on a straight face anyway. Windjammer sighed, obviously long suffering.

“Please don't be rude,” he said. “We just got here.”

“At least wait until we're settled in to make some enemies,” Updraft said cheerfully.

Windjammer would have his own quarters, with Glory's own fliers, but bonded mechs were entitled to proper apartments. The floor below Glory's, coincidentally, as if she didn't already seek out Updraft as much as possible for flight drills and shifts. With the Advent coming up, she was full of plans—parties, flight displays, presents for Swift. Updraft should have been in on all of them, now they could finally all make a new normal.

But suddenly, she found Updraft impossible to find.

Her shifts were the same, and they would share quiet patrols, but Updraft would be off as soon as they were done, waving goodbye as she took off for elsewhere. Glory certainly couldn't follow, not when she had so many duties to attend to. (And since it would probably scare her off even worse.)

Blitzwing, predictably, told her not to worry about it.

“Her whole family's finally together, and they're probably all settling in,” he said one morning. “I mean, I wouldn't get it, I never had a family, but--”

Glory snorted. “I dunno what you'd call Swift and I, then.”

He only grinned, and tapped her wing on his way out. “ _Had_. And don't poke your thrusters into her business if she's busy. She's a decent kid, for being Starscream's.”

It wasn't that Updraft was _missing_ , because Glory made the schedules, and so they patrolled together three times a week. But that was work, quiet and necessary communications only. As they landed one day, the week before the Advent, Glory dared to ask. Before Updraft could simply wave goodbye, and race off again.

“Oh,” Updraft said, surprised. “I'm just busy lately. Are you worried about me?”

“Well, a bit,” Glory confessed. There was something in Updraft's optics, something she wasn't telling Glory, and it unsettled her. “You'd talk to me if there was anything I could do, right?”

“Of course.” Updraft smiled at her, but it didn't make Glory feel any better. “But I've got to get going right now. I promised Dad I'd help him put his tools in order.”

She flew off, alone, and Glory let herself sigh. Maybe the other trines were harassing her friend again, despite her good behaviour, and she just didn't want to admit it. It could be any number of things, but Glory wasn't sure she would get her answer from Updraft herself.

Uppercut was much easier to seek out, having made herself a workspace within Hook's huge medical bay. As a specialist, she'd soon have her own office, but for now space was still hard to come by. When Glory came to see her, she was surprised to find the other Breakdown—her Stunticon Breakdown—getting a tune-up, looking more relaxed than she might have ever seen him.

“This kind of simple maintenance is so important,” Uppercut was saying, hands working carefully under Breakdown's plating. “I know we 'Cons don't like to admit needing help, but crossed wired and stuck plating and things like that need a new pair of hands to put them in order. Can anyone on your team do this for you?”

Breakdown laughed, a little uncomfortably. “You kidding? We see a doctor once we’re half-dead, and—oh. That actually feels a lot better.”

“Well, your team will have to see me too,” Uppercut said. She caught Glory's optic and flashed her a grin, even as she moved to close up the panel on Breakdown’s arm. “I’m going up the list based on who's been neglecting their physicals longest.

Breakdown caught sight of her too, and brightened—before instantly looking nervous again. “Hey, kid! You feeling okay? Oh, no, you _are_ feeling okay, right?”

Glory made her smile reassuring, practiced by now. “Of course. I just need to talk to Uppercut, if you’re all done. Entirely non-medical.”

“Alright,” Breakdown said, looking a bit unconvinced. He turned towards Uppercut then, nodding curtly. “Doc, you’re not bad with a racer. I thought you’d be, like…in my spark, though. Was worried about that.”

“Not unless it’s hurting,” Uppercut said, chuckling. “Or if you want a newspark. Take care, Breakdown.”

She winked at Glory as Breakdown left. “Shockwave is dragging his feet on giving me sparkwork space,” she said. “But at I have my Vector Sigma access.”

Glory hiked her wings up in surprise. “That’s wonderful!” she said. “Some of the bonded mechs in my building were talking about when they can get frames built. People want children again.”

Uppercut shrugged. “We don’t have it on Velocitron, of course,” she said. “You have a newspark if you can afford it, no keys or planet’s centre involved. But Shockwave says we should do it right.”

“It matters here,” Glory said. “My own parents had a key to Vector Sigma to seal the deal, so to speak.”

“Primus gave us sparks to seal together,” Uppercut said, setting her tools aside. “Vector Sigma doesn’t need keys to tell it when to make life, not when it lights hot spots. _If_ you ask me. Anyway—I’m gonna take a guess and say you want to talk about Updraft.”

“That obvious?” Glory said in surprise. Uppercut had essentially spoken sacrilege without blinking—but it was a little thrilling, to hear a _spark doctor_ so blasé about their life-giving core. “But, yeah. I’m worried she’s avoiding me.”

“She’s avoiding everyone a little,” Uppercut said. She leaned on the exam table, apparently savouring the break. “Something’s on her mind, but I couldn’t tell you what. It happens sometimes.”

“She’s had a hard time,” Glory said. Uppercut nodded, expression much more serious.

“Sometimes she remembers something,” Uppercut offered. “Simanzi, Earth, whatever. I didn’t live through the war, so I can’t understand.” She reached out, touching Glory's arm. “I’m not Updraft, though. She'll probably talk to our sire about it, and it’ll help.”

Her conversation with Uppercut didn’t make her feel better, but it made sense. (She hoped Shockwave would approve Uppercut’s full sparkwork by the Advent. For them to multiply properly again, to have _families_ , would be a wonderful thing for everyone.)

Windjammer tended to be on night shifts (of his choosing), so she decided not to disturb his rest. When another week went by, and they were two days to the holiday, she tapped on Knock Out's door.

The suspicion on his face slid off right away when he saw it was her. “Ah, Glory! Come in, come in. Did you bring little Swift?”

“She’s Advent shopping with Swindle,” Glory said. She had to smile at that, even if it wasn’t unusual—it was very hard not to love Swift of Vos.

“You _must_ bring her around more often,” Knock Out said. He was already back to his table, and Glory noticed several dozen kinds of polish stacked up there. “It’s been some time since mine were small. She reminds me of Uppercut, you know.”

Glory had her doubts about Swift upgrading into such a bruiser, but it was probably true that Uppercut had once been as shy. “I’m actually here to ask about Updraft, if that’s okay. I’ve only really seen her at our patrols.”

“Ah,” Knock Out said. He paused in his sorting. “Yes, she’s been bothered by something.”

“I know it’s not my business,” Glory began. “I’m just—"

“—Worried,” Knock Out finished for her. “When she’s more herself, she’ll appreciate it. I do, too.”

He smiled at her, before turning back to his work, and Glory wondered what four million years without his daughter must have been like. He had found a conjux and had more children, sure, but new mechs couldn’t replace the dead. Glory knew that too well.

“Well, you can let her know I’d like to see her at the celebration,” Glory said. She felt a little awkward, standing there in his apartment, but Updraft’s comm was still usually closed. What else was she supposed to do?

“I will,” Knock Out said. “She's very lucky to have a friend in you, Glory. You Seekers need to flock.”

She’d heard Astrotrain, of all mechs, say that before, but it had seemed derisive then. From Knock Out it sounded fond, and Glory remembered he’d been a Seeker once, too. It was rare that a mech traded wings for wheels, and was so pleased about it so long after the fact.

Blitzwing had been right. Updraft would come through this on her own terms, and Glory would just have to put up with the wait. And the worry.

 

* * *

“Advent, Advent, Advent!” Swift chanted as they walked. She was bouncing on her heels, one hand in Blitzwing’s, the other clutching a bag full of candy boxes. “You’re sure we packed all of them, Mama?”

Glory smiled. “If you counted them right. One for all your friends.”

Rumble and Frenzy would probably prefer snap powder or firecrackers, but Swift was so sweet and earnest that they would never appear disappointed at her candy. The other kids would probably have similar presents for Swift, along with whatever surprises the adults had waiting for them later. Decepticons were already milling in the base's foyer, safely out of the cold weather, and Glory could spot a few of the Autobot delegation, too. Instinctively, she moved closer to Swift.

Blitzwing saw, and understood. But a comm tapped her consciousness all the same. _I've got her. You know they won’t try anything._

_I know. If any mech will protect a sparklet, it’s Optimus Prime, but—_

_Updraft at 2 o'clock,_ Blitzwing said. _With her family. Go catch her._

He steered Swift off, towards Astrotrain (who would be getting the biggest candy bag—honestly, of all the mechs for Swift to love…), leaving Glory to do what she’d been planning all week. Hopefully Updraft’s family hadn’t painted a bad picture of her, asking everyone where she was and what she was doing.

Windjammer made it easy for her. He flashed a quick grin, and winked one yellow optic before he gestured her towards them. “Season’s greetings, Air Commander.”

“And same to you,” Glory said, grinning back. “Just Glory tonight. It’s a holiday, after all.”

A benefit of Windjammer being the size of two Megatrons: it was easy to settle in near him, because mechs still gave him a wide berth. Glory figured they simply hadn’t gotten to know him, because like Uppercut, he didn’t have the temperament for combat. Oh, he sparred _very_ effectively, but it was clear his spark wasn’t in it. Megatron likely would have been disappointed back on Earth, had he ordered this soldier back to him.

A big hand pressed something into hers. The other Breakdown's yellow optics flickered cheerfully, and Glory looked down at a colourful package.

“Got one for Swift too, when we catch her,” he said. Breakdown _did_ have the temperament to fight, and a gladiator's record to prove it, but Glory had mostly seen him calm. Relaxed, completely unlike the Stunticon she’d grown up with. “Happy Advent, kid.”

“Thank you,” Glory said, putting it carefully in her subspace. “Happy Advent.”

Updraft was there, between Knock Out and Uppercut, and smiling, apparently not suspicious or disturbed. Now that she was closer, Glory could see that she and her siblings all looked stunning, polished to perfection and their paint still gleaming. Knock Out’s handiwork, for sure.

“Season's greetings,” Updraft said, and she put her arms around Glory. “You look beautiful.”

“So do you,” Glory said in surprise. She probably wasn’t angry, if her first instinct was a hug. “All of you, actually.”

Knock Out laughed. “Breakdown tried to leave the hab suite with a scuff,” he said. “On my first Advent back home? Unthinkable.”

“So we all got the treatment,” Uppercut said, grinning.

As Updraft stepped back, Uppercut’s gaze went fierce, and she poked her sister in the wing. Updraft jerked her head up in surprise, Uppercut only nodded.

Updraft smiled again, not quite looking at Glory. “Walk with me, Air Commander? Let’s talk.”

The party was growing in size, and it was easy for two Seekers to slip off among the festivities. Interested optics followed them—until they saw that one Seeker was the Air Commander, and not looking for that kind of attention.

“The Prime is here,” Glory said softly. He had made his entrance in an unassuming way, and at least he hadn’t brought the former Rodimus. Still, she steered them to the other side of the foyer, where she could see Swift instead, handing off a candy package to little Hornet.

“Mechs hate him less,” Updraft noted. “At least, he’s not being accosted.”

“Under our orders,” Glory said. “But, you’re right. There are planet-wide threats now, that affect all of us. It's unwise to stoop to old grudges.”

“It’s still okay not to forgive him for what he’s done,” Updraft said, more quietly. “Anyway, Glory. I have to talk to you. I’ve been avoiding you, and I’m sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have pried,” Glory confessed, touching Updraft’s arm. “I asked your family if you were alright, and they weren’t sure.”

Updraft smiled sadly, only shrugging. “Windjammer—this is not his fault—said something about the Decepticon tombs being here. You know he loves his research.”

“It’s not what I expected of him,” Glory confessed. Windjammer, in fact, seemed as happy behind a monitor as Soundwave, and her rosters and lists had almost overnight become tidier. “But, yes. We brought them home.”

“I want to go,” Updraft said, and when she turned her optics were too bright. “I know it’s the Advent and you probably don’t want to go into a mausoleum, but it’s just—it’s all I can think about. I want to see them.”

“I can take you,” Glory said. “I don’t—want to be around the Prime or make nice, anyway. But, Updraft...I have to warn you about Starscream's.”

Updraft only shrugged. “I already guessed it’s poorly maintained. No one but me would go to it.”

Glory had to wonder why even Updraft would bother. She had only spent several months with her carrier, and they’d been marked by abuse and neglect. Blitzwing would remind her that it wasn’t her business to pry (even if he agreed with her assessment).

“Of course I’ll take you,” was all she said. They took off, and Glory was grateful for the mild breeze. If anything had gone right, it was the weather, perfect for flying with an airspace fairly empty. Everyone was celebrating, after all.

In the air, Updraft’s comm opened, and Glory received another message. _I have one more thing to tell you. But after this._

The Decepticon crypts were cool, quiet, and a little dusty. The occasional crystal offering, or vial of innermost energon, were the only spots of colour between the tombs. Megatron's own mechs, his personal force, were honoured by statues.

And there lay the problem.

“Oh,” Updraft said quietly.

Skywarp and Thundercracker's statues flanked their trine leader’s. Glory's own innermost energon still stood on her uncle’s stone, from the day they had brought the tomb down and loved ones had been visited. Swift had been so frightened of the dark crypts that Glory had simply gone by herself, but it had been upsetting to face it all again. She’d told herself she was waiting until she could tell Swift about her family.

She hadn’t concerned herself with Starscream’s statue then. Rather, his lack thereof, because some joker had chosen only to recreate what had been left of him after Galvatron. Two feet, and part of one leg.

She realized, a little guiltily, that she must be truly Decepticon at spark. Cruelly, she had let another Air Commander (a former _leader,_ however brief) be disrespected in death. It wasn’t true malice, but she’d always hated indifference.

Updraft stared at it a moment longer before stepping back. She sighed, heavy and sad, and Glory felt guilt grip her spark.

“Can we have this taken down?” Updraft asked finally. “I think I’d rather he have nothing.”

“I’m so sorry,” Glory started. “Updraft, I should have—”

Really, the last thing she’d expected had been for Updraft to turn around and grab her, her small frame hugging Glory's middle.

“Thank you for showing me,” Updraft said. “You wouldn’t have been the reason it was like this. Now I can deal with it.”

“He’s a former Air Commander,” Glory started. “I should have—”

“Maybe,” Updraft said. “But you’re the youngest Air Commander in history, and you’ve been busy helping run the world. It’s okay.”

“I don’t think,” Glory began, and had to pause. “I don’t think Skywarp and Thundercracker would have been happy about it, either.”

They swept the command trine’s tomb as best they could. Glory was already planning the detail who would remove Starscream’s mocking statue (maybe not fliers, who were generally pleased to no longer work under him), and it would be simple to reproduce a Seeker sculpture for his place.

She _was_ better than Starscream. It was only right to ensure he wasn’t mocked despite it.

They flew back to the party in quiet. Glory's spark burned, wishing she had waited until after the Advent to do this. Maybe Updraft wouldn’t forgive her after all, and it was only something she had said.

And of course, the place was in turmoil when they got back. Glory landed, and was inundated with shouting, jostling, intensity. Because of course things had gone wrong.

“I have to find Swift,” she started to say, ready to protect her, when Blitzwing grabbed her shoulders. She started—especially when she saw that he was _smiling_. From audial to audial, actually, looking almost like a cheerful mech.

“Swift’s with Stormrunner and Valiant,” he said, knowing her instinct by now. “Glory, where were you? Didn’t you see?”

Glory must have given him a very blank look, because Blitzwing simply steered her to look at the plain beyond Kaon. It took her a moment, because she had to squint, but then she saw it. Almost just a glowing smudge on horizon, where their territory met the southern limit of the Autobot’s.

Glory had never seen a hot spot. They were from before the war, and their slow fade away had been one of the instigators. But she knew the glow of sparks without Blitzwing having to say it out loud.

Updraft knew it, too, and her small hand gripped Glory's wrist. The commotion around them wasn’t panicked, but joyful.

“'Course, you two are so young,” Blitzwing said, not even looking her way. “You wouldn’t know. I thought we’d never see one again.”

“One of the last happened when I was very little,” Updraft said. “The city just stopped for a day because of it.”

“Is it on our side?” Glory asked quietly. “Or theirs?”

“Both,” said Optimus Prime.

They saw Swift at the same time, but Blitzwing was closer. He scooped her up as Optimus approached—even if the sparklet only looked shy and curious, not the least bit frightened.

“Both?” Updraft repeated. Glory wondered if Optimus would remember her, the little femme who had briefly turned the Decepticons upside down. His optics sparkled, but she couldn’t tell.

A comm came through, from one of Glory’s squadrons. Firebrand, overexcited as usual. _A hot spot, Commander, a real one! Right on the border of Helex and Petrex!_

An image capture, too, with the border mark clearly visible. Good for Firebrand, because Glory certainly couldn’t tell from the main square.

“I'm just hearing from one of my teams now,” Glory said. “Yes, it's straddling both sides evenly. I…of all the days.”

“It was once considered quite holy, to ignite on Primus‘s celebration,” Optimus said. “Good luck.”

“I’m not religious,” Glory said.

The Prime’s optics sparkled. This mech, who had killed her uncle, was so infuriatingly _likable_ sometimes that she had to avoid him for her own sanity. From Blitzwing's arms, Swift stared at them, optics round.

“There’s no need to be,” Optimus said. “Expertise is what we’ll need now, anyway. I've heard from Soundwave that a registered sparkologist is among your ranks.”

“I am,” Uppercut said, appearing from behind Blitzwing. “Uppercut of Velocitron. And Glory, I _have_ to go. They’re going to need me.”

She and Windjammer had certainly carved a path, with half the party having to had stepped (or dived—Uppercut had never looked this excited) out of the way.

Glory's first instinct was to tell her _no,_ they could not have one of their most valuable doctors so close to the Autobots. Of course, it wasn’t up to her. Hook and Shockwave would have to approve it.

And since Shockwave and Optimus played Polyhex chess whenever they were in the same place these days, she knew what the answer would be.

“You’ll have to speak to your superiors,” Glory said after a moment. “Of course we'll need all capable mechs to help. And you’re the most capable of all.”

Blitzwing was quietly explaining to Swift what a hot spot was, even with one optic on Glory. “They won’t be sparklets,” she heard him say. “They’ll be adults from the start. I was born that way, too.”

“Thank you for the information,” Glory said to Optimus. She couldn’t place what the rolling in her spark was. “I’m certain we'll be speaking again tomorrow, when command and I have convened.”

“Of course,” Optimus said. “Season’s greetings, Air Commander.”

Glory turned to duck through the crowd then, a little rudely, but a small red form ducked in front of her first.

“Glory,” Updraft said quickly, “I guess this is as good a time as any to tell you what I want to do. My place among your forces.”

“Okay,” Glory said. As if this holiday couldn’t take any more baffling twists and turns.

Updraft looked away. They had found themselves at a railing, and from there it was easier to the see the tiny, winking lights of newsparks amongst the glow. When her gaze turned back to Glory's, it was steady, her red optics bright.

“I want to liaison between us and the Autobots,” Updraft said. “They always come to us, but we only send forces to defend them. We need to have the same footing.”

Glory stared at her, long enough that Updraft went on quickly. “I’ve been thinking about it since we arrived. If there are newsparks being forged on our border, we'll _need_ real delegates. And no one will be better at it than me.”

Glory reset her optics. “What…what makes you say that? Updraft, do you really want to go to Iacon?”

“Yes,” she said, and Glory realized she meant it. “If Starscream’s daughter can be a _diplomat_ , and if she can do a good job, people might really believe in this peace. You might, too.”

Of course Glory believed in this peace! She had helped write the treaty! But…

…It was true, that their diplomatic missions were rare. It was true that Updraft spoke well, and that if _she_ could make nice with Autobots, and help set terms that meant something to all of them…

Then maybe they wouldn’t go to war over that wonderful hot spot.

“Someone will have to go with you,” Glory said. “I would say Uppercut is the perfect choice, but she'll be busy forging the new mechs. But…” She snapped her fingers, inspiration striking her. “We’ll ask your brother. I know he prefers papers to punching.”

Updraft grinned, to Glory's great relief. “He keeps worrying you'll send him to kill Quintessons. I'm not sure what that colony did to my siblings, but they’re not fighters.”

Glory had worried a little about that. Now she was starting to realize that that was exactly what they needed, now.

But there was one more thing.

“You and me,” Glory said carefully, “We’re hot-tempered. I have outlets, but a delegate has to be _diplomatic._ You can’t have outbursts, even if they’re righteous.”

“That’ll be the challenge, won’t it,” Updraft said. She smiled more softly, before she reached out and took Glory's hands. “I think I can do it. We’re not little girls any more. But I’m under your jurisdiction, so it’s up to you.”

Glory thought of the day she and Frenzy had squeezed into a vent, and listened to Updraft speak up. How she had saved herself, and convinced Megatron himself to let her carry on.

She smiled, squeezing Updraft’s hands. “My answer is yes, if it’s what you really want. But first we’ll have to sort out the hot spot.”

“Of course,” Updraft said. She stepped back then, and over the crowd Glory could hear Swift’s excited voice. She must have been with her friends, because Valiant was louder, with Hornet trying to talk over them both. Updraft smiled at her, and motioned towards the party.

“I think it’s time to celebrate,” she said, straightening up. With her wings held high, her plating gleaming, Glory imagined her turning heads in Iacon. “And maybe we should save Blitzwing from having to explain where sparklets come from.”

Glory grinned mischievously. “Tragically, it’s too late for that. She asked one day when he was meeting her after school.”

Updraft laughed, and they turned back towards her family. Someone had released lanterns while they were gone, that floated like sparks above their heads. It was an awfully peaceful scene for a Decepticon base, and Glory savoured it in that moment.

The following days would be busy, and there would be plenty of late nights. The mechs who would harvest the newsparks would be chosen, and how the two faction's teams would work together needed _extensive_ discussion. Glory already knew she would argue for the sparks to be factionless, and choose for themselves—it was there right, and one thing she and Optimus would agree on. Ultra Magnus would object, and there would be discussions double the length planned.

And she would see about having Updraft and Windjammer watch. If she was going to send her fliers out as delegates, then they had better know what they were in for with the Autobots.

Starscream’s statue would be ordered, too. Just after they had ensured Cybertron's new life was brought into the world.

Two Seekers, not beholden by their parentage or what others had expected of them, rejoined the celebration. And Glory believed things might really work out.


End file.
